


Thirst of the Transient

by 234am



Series: Serenity in Silver [1]
Category: Vampire Hunter D (Anime & Manga), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alucard gets a dog, Alucard sleeps forever, Canon is taffy and I will pull it apart, Fix-It, Kikuchi is why we can't have nice things, Loss of Powers, M/M, Nonbinary Character, OC NPCs (for flavor), Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Whump, delete Left Hand, unrelated Draculas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2019-08-07 05:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 112,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16401905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/234am/pseuds/234am
Summary: An ancient castle rises from the desert, menacing a nearby town. The locals send out the call for hunters and D's the one to answer. He expects the hunt to go like any other, but as he makes his way through the strange castle, he stands to lose (or gain) everything.





	1. a stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates twice a month, on (US) Saturdays, barring technical difficulties or major holidays.

The castle rose from the depths and cast a dark shadow over the town.

On a blistering summer day, the earth trembled. Livestock lowed restlessly for hours beforehand. During the earthquake, the cow-pigs occupying the largest ranch stampeded away from the source. The ground split under their hooves even as they split the skull of a hapless farmhand that failed to get out of the way in time.

Mr. Joneson, who owned the ranch, shouted for his sons as he raced to the stables. They all scrambled to follow him. He burst out of the stables on the back of his best cyborg horse, unsaddled, and raced to head off the stampede. With the help of his sons, he managed to guide the cow-pigs away from the northern fence-line before they could crash through and spill out into town.

Meanwhile, all throughout town, other animals worked themselves up into a frenzy. One girl got bit by her little mongrel dog when its fear grew too great. It ran off into the scraggly trees outside of town, never to be seen again.

Dishware and picture frames fell and shattered on the floors. Furniture was knocked over. People could not stay on their feet. Walls cracked, windows broke, fences and signs fell over. The earthquake lasted almost a full hour. By the end of it, the whole town was in disarray.

The town siren rang out over the wreckage. People picked themselves up and limped out in twos and threes, bruised and dirty, to gather in the town square.

City Hall, an ugly, squat building made of solid stone and clay, remained standing. Its windows were all broken and the flagpole out front stood crooked. The mayor and sheriff waited on the front steps, looking out over the survivors.

And they all gazed out at the horizon, permanently changed by the appearance of the castle.

"Nobles," someone whispered.

The word was picked up by the rest of the crowd, passed furtively from person to person until it reached the mayor.

"Now, people, listen--" Mayor Rahm cried, hands up.

Ruby Dagman, a tall, severe woman made hard from years of toiling in the fields, pushed to the front of the crowd. "What are you goin' to do 'bout this!"

"Yeah!" others cried. Still others added their fears to the pile: "We have daughters," "Sons," and "Our livestock!"

The sheriff raised his gun, an ancient six bullet revolver. He fired off one shot. It echoed loud and cut through the clamor. The end of the barrel smoked as he lowered it. His face was impassive as he looked out over the people he'd protected for his whole life.

"Now, y'all listen up," Sheriff Chavez said. "The mayor's got words."

"Thank you kindly, sheriff." Rahm pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and used it to dab at his balding head. "What we're goin' to do, people, is have us a curfew." Over the outcry, he flapped his handkerchief and raised his voice. "I'm gonna send for a hunter! Meantime, we're gonna put our lives back together and be careful-like, you hear!"

The sheriff braced his feet apart and hooked his thumbs in his belts. "Right, let's have some organization... Deputies, report!"

"And if I could have my staff?" the mayor added. "Everyone else, please return to your homes for the time bein'."

The deputies and City Hall staff broke away from the crowd to follow their superiors inside. With much grumbling, the rest of the crowd dispersed.

Recovery would be a time-consuming, grueling chore that none of them relished.

The mayor had his aides get to work organizing survey teams to tally up the damages, search and rescue teams to look for any missing townies, and willing volunteers to begin helping clear away the debris so that they could rebuild.

The sheriff busied himself with the task of ensuring that the town remained secure from all threats. Then he sat himself down in front of an ancient ham radio. He fiddled with the dials, listening to the crackle of airwaves over the bulky headphones. Poring through an old, faded handbook, he laboriously sent out a distress signal that would bounce from tower to tower all the way to the Capital.

With any luck, it would draw willing vampire hunters to handle the problem of the Nobility on Talus City's doorstep.

-

The horse's rear joints creaked with every step. It plodded steadily on but slower with each passing hour. The servos would give out soon, leaving its rider with no choice but to walk.

The rider slouched into his scarf and cape. The wide-brimmed hat on his head shielded him from the merciless sun but not from its heat. Sweat trickled down his neck and back. His expression remained blank, gaze always fixed unerringly towards the horizon before him.

The intense heat made everything waver before his eyes. Sometimes, he thought he saw shapes out there. Despite their allure, he did not stray from the road. For miles and miles on all sides, the desert stretched out, endless. It would be madness to venture out into the sands.

"Some fool's errand you're on this time," a voice said.

He paid it no mind, only tightened his left fist around the horse's reins, digging his nails into the palm. The voice snickered but said no more.

The road wound its way through abandoned machinery. Huge, rusting satellites, long picked over by scavengers, provided brief shade as the rider passed under them. They were all pointed at the moon, remnants of the Nobility's desperate attempts to find solace in the darkness of space.

Even farther out, the rider saw motionless pumpjacks. The sand was stained black with oil around them. No one had braved the heat to try and salvage them in decades. Maybe they never would.

As he rode on, he saw a large, inky lake of tar to the west. Horrific creatures with long, spindly legs wobbled about, their features obscured by the steam streaming off the bubbling surface. Some of them paused to watch his passing.

Still he continued on. The road was cracked and broken in many places, yet he followed it all the way through the desert. Sand gave away to dry, cracked earth, then to low, bristly golden grass and prickly plants.

The castle loomed on the horizon.

Like all of the Nobility's creations, it made little sense. The mind struggled to process the Escher-like architecture. Stairs ran every which way, seemingly leading nowhere, or back onto themselves. Rooftops curved in uncanny angles, held up by improbable pillars. Graceful towers hung upside down from skinny walkways.

After studying it for a few minutes, the rider guided his dying cyborg horse past the castle.

Talus City lay before him. The locals had managed to clear away most of the debris and rebuilding efforts were well under way.

Palisades made of scrap metal ringed the outer perimeter of the town in bristly spikes. A pair of deputies watched the rider's approach from the top of a battered tank. They both held old wind-up laser rifles.

The rider's horse died about eight feet from the tank. He leapt from its back and landed in a crouch in front of it. With both laser rifles pointed at him, he stood and turned his pale face up.

"State yer biz," the older of the two deputies barked.

"I'm here to see the mayor."

"Yeah, what for?"

The rider said nothing. He did not need to.

"Oi, lookit him." The other deputy jerked his chin towards the rider. "Got a face like glue and pointy ears!"

The first deputy hissed. "A damn dhampir!"

"Ya don't think he's--"

"Don't matter, _yer_ takin' him to City Hall."

"What, but, that ain't--" His protest got cut short by a sharp jab in the side by the butt of the other deputy's gun. " _Oof_! Hell's bells, man, fine!" Muttering all the while, the deputy hopped down off the tank. "C'mon, dhampir, walk ahead of me 'n no funny biz."

The rider swept past the deputy without a word. His dark cloak swirled around him, gave him brief respite from the sweltering heat beneath, and then settled heavily over his body once more.

He walked down the road. It would be impossible to get lost in town. There was only the one main road tarred with black; the rest of the roads were dirt, branching out towards the farms. Cracks from the earthquake split the main road, making huge potholes that they had to walk around.

Townies paused to watch the rider pass by, just like the creatures from the tar pits. He paid them no heed and kept his gaze on the City Hall.

Several tents had been erected on the east side of City Hall. From the looks of things, they served as living space for anyone without a home. A long line formed outside one of the larger tents, from which the rich, heady smells of gravy and meat emanated.

The deputy moved ahead of the rider to pull the front doors of City Hall open. Inside was blessedly dark and cool. The thick stone walls trapped cold air inside and the rider could faintly hear the rumble of an old air conditioner.

Directly ahead of the front doors, a solid stone countertop sat in the middle of the room. The woman behind it looked up with a pinched expression. She gripped her pen and clipboard tightly.

"Can I help y'all?" she asked.

The deputy nodded towards the rider. "Vampire hunter come to see the mayor."

"Oh!" The woman didn't exactly relax, but she exhaled and nodded. "Right this way."

She came out from behind the counter and led the rider to one of the doors on the west side of the building. It opened up to a hallway lined with doors, each labeled with some important function of city planning. The mayor's office was all the way in the back, his name in big black letters on the bubbled glass.

The woman knocked twice.

A muffled man's voice called, "Come in!"

She opened the door and let it swing wide. "A vampire hunter, mayor. A mister..." She glanced at the rider with pursed lips and brows rising.

"D," the rider said.

"D..." The mayor sat up behind his desk. He slapped his hands down atop it, disturbing stacks of paperwork. "The legendary vampire hunter, come to _our_ town!?"

Even the woman's eyes widened with recognition, her lips parting to show teeth slightly crooked but healthy. She had a lipstick stain on one of her lower canines.

The mayor pushed himself up and waved his hands. "Come in, come in!"

D stepped into the room. He nudged the door shut behind him with the tips of his fingertips, cutting off the woman's silent gawking. As the mayor bustled towards him, he deftly sidestepped the attempt at touch, instead going straight for one of the windows to peer out at construction work being done to a nearby farmhouse.

"Right... I'm Mayor Rahm. Can I get you anything, 'fore we get down to business?"

"No."

Nodding as if he expected that, Rahm trundled back to his seat. It creaked when he sat down. "Right to it, then."

"How long since the castle appeared?"

"Two weeks, just 'bout."

"Any attacks?"

"Had a couple of youngin's get it in their heads they oughta explore. Fools." Rahm spat into an ashtray on his desk, then pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe his mouth. "They came back tellin' tales of ferocious monsters and deadly traps. Couple of bruises, a broken leg, lotta cuts. Nothin' serious."

"None received the Kiss?"

"No, not as far as we could tell. Kept 'em quarantined for a bit to be sure, but nothin' ever came of it. We need every hand we can get helpin', you know."

D tucked his chin, a facsimile of a nod.

"Well, so, we're startin' to wonder if there is one, if it's bidin' its time for somethin'." Rahm pushed a pen back and forth across his desk, frowning. "Your job'll be to find out and to deal with it."

"And the payment?"

"Given that we don't know if there's a Noble at all..."

D leveled his cold gaze on the mayor. He knew human behavior well enough by now to know that if there were any chance of shortchanging him, they were eager to take it.

To his credit, Rahm did not hunch down very much. He jutted his wobbly chin and almost managed to meet D's eyes. "We were thinkin' of payin' you extra. More if you figure out how to get that eyesore gone altogether."

Rahm poked through the stacks of papers on his desk. He pulled a sheaf of papers towards him by the tips of his fingers. A pair of spectacles hung on a chain around his neck; he pulled them on and cleared his throat.

"I'm given to understand the minimum a vampire hunter makes is three meals a day and five thousand dalas..." Rahm licked the tip of his finger and flipped the page. "Ah, here: we the township of Talus City hereby offer twenty thousand dalas a day, plus meals, plus shelter, plus any other supplies, within reason, as needed to the vampire hunter who agrees to investigate the Noble castle and rid it of any Nobility found therein. A bonus of fifty thousand shall be rendered upon total disarmament and destruction of the castle." He lifted his gaze from the page. "Is that agreeable?"

"Fine. I will need a horse and an afternoon's rest."

"Not a problem. If you're willin' to sign here..."

Rahm snagged his pen and held it up as he pushed the sheaf of papers across the desk towards D. Sighing, D crossed the room. He took the pen and put a large, looping 'D' on the line.

"Thank you very much." Rahm took the pen and added his own signature beneath D's, as well as the date. "We've got ourselves an accord."

He pulled a desk drawer open and stowed the contract inside. After shutting the drawer, Rahm produced a keyring to lock it. The keys jangled obnoxiously, a piercing, high pitched noise that seemed to clatter around inside D's skull.

The beginnings of fatigue from his long hours out in the sun were getting the better of him. He could see the faint glow of halos beginning to form around every light source. It would only get worse if he did not rest.

Thankfully, he was not due for a relapse of sunlight syndrome yet.

Rahm bustled around his desk, heading for the door. "Come on, then, let's get you sorted out and settled in!"

D followed the man out into the main lobby. There, he stood off to the side, only half listening as Rahm conversed with the woman who had the clipboard.

"Send for Sheriff Chavez, if'n you would, Miss Narica."

"Of course, sir."

"Thanks, darlin'."

Miss Narica pushed a button on a large box that sat on the far end of her counter. The town's siren went off, blatting a short, intermittent beat that D realized was morse code. The noise made his eyes slip shut, teeth grit. Otherwise, he continued to look as unmoved by everything as always.

"Sorry for the noise, hunter," Rahm said, chuckling weakly. "Our communications are down, so we're makin' do with what we got left. Hopin' to get the wires back up in no time."

"You do what you must."

Nodding, Rahm beamed. There was an edge of nervous desperation to his friendliness. "Knew you'd probably understand."

D stared through the mayor until he coughed and sidled all the way to the other end of the counter. The woman behind it busied herself with her paperwork and kept her head down. She kept casting furtive, shy glances D's way when she thought he wouldn't notice.

It was an awkward wait, to say the least.

The sheriff's arrival alleviated D's suffering. He pushed in through the doors and strode in like he owned the place. His boots rang off the floor and his spurs jangled. Behind him, a pair of deputies brought up the rear, each shouldering a rifle.

"So! You're the hunter." The sheriff stopped several feet away from D and sized him up, from hat to boots. "Guess we'll see if you're worth the money."

"You'll see," D agreed.

Rahm said, "Sheriff Chavez, this is D. He needs a horse and a place to lay his head."

"We got the first, sure, but there's not many beds to spare." As he spoke, Chavez never took his eyes off D. If there was any fear to the man, he repressed it well. "Sure as hell not puttin' him in with our folks."

D folded his arms. "Anywhere will do."

"There now, y'see." Nodding with self-satisfaction, the mayor puffed his chest out. "A most reasonable man. See if someone's got a spare shed still standin'."

"And the willingness to put up with a dhampir stayin' close by," Chavez muttered.

"Of course, we can't have anyone uncomfortable and spoilin' for a fight."

"Alright, come with me, hunter." Chavez turned his head to the deputy on his right, never taking his eyes off D. "Boyle, ya stay here and keep an eye on things. Rhys, with me."

Following the two lawmen out of the building, D tipped his face down into the striped scarf around his neck. He squinted against the too bright sunshine outside. Chavez led the way out towards the edge of town, near the point where prairie became desert sand.

There, a small farm spread out over a hillside overlooking the town. The hill had been carved into a series of step-like platforms, each containing a small, flat tract of land for growing different crops. At a glance, the farm seemed to produce olives, potatoes, and lentils, possible only because the local weather controller kept the desert heat from encroaching.

The earthquake had torn much of it up and left the farm in shambles. Fallen trees lay everywhere. Bags of sand served to dam up some of the breaks, allowing irrigated water to pool up and keep the surviving plants from dying out.

The farmhouse at the top of the hill had seen better days but it was the same kind of solid stone and clay as City Hall and suffered only minor damage. The windows were all broken and the front door was off its hinges.

The same could not be said of the barn or fences around the barn. The roof and back walls had collapsed, leaving the whole structure leaning precariously. Much of the fence lay in broken pieces--even the parts still standing would need mending.

A tall, older woman, a younger woman, and a boy worked to pull up fence posts and shovel in holes. The woman straightened up from the work and leaned on her shovel, watching the visitors approach.

"What's all this, sheriff?" she asked, once they came to a stop before her.

"Mrs. Dagman." The sheriff swept his hat off his head. "Sorry to see your barn was hit."

"Get to the point."

"Was hopin' you'd have a horse and a stall to lend our guest."

"Had to send my livestock down to Joneson's for safe-keepin'." Mrs. Dagman spat on the ground, then wiped the back of her arm against her face. "Won't have the barn up for another week, at least." She eyed D. "This the hunter?"

"Yes'm."

"Fine, I got room in the cellar."

"Ya sure? No need to put yourself out--"

"If he's gonna fix that damn nasty business on yonder horizon, s'fine with me." She jerked her chin towards the youths. "I'm Ruby, hunter. That's my daughter, Amber, and her boy, Jasper."

As she named them, the woman and boy stopped their work and nodded politely. D inclined his head right back.

Ruby dragged her tongue against the inside of her cheek. "You keep your mouth to yourself and mind your manners, and the cellar's all yours."

"Your hospitality is appreciated." Despite the polite words, D managed to sound utterly indifferent. "I'm D."

"Can't say it'll amount to much." Ruby shrugged a shoulder, then turned on the sheriff. "Your job's done, y'all can get."

The sheriff nodded and put his hat back on. "Thank ya kindly, Mrs. Dagman." He faced D with his hand resting against the butt of his revolver. "Ya mind yourself now."

Then the sheriff and his deputy set off back down the hill. Ruby watched them go, then shook her head.

"Amber, you 'n Jasper oughta take a break, get some water in you. I'm gonna take care of our guest."

"Yes, mother," Amber said.

Ruby set her shovel against a fence post, clapped her gloved hands together to dust them off, and then strode off towards the house. D followed at a respectful distance. She led him around to the back, where she threw open the cellar doors.

"Here you go. There's a couple of cots against the back wall, on account of the rainy season. Sorry I can't offer you a lamp, damn thing broke."

"Did all the glass break?"

Ruby nodded. "Just 'bout. Even the hangin' bulbs seemed to burst."

"What survived?"

"The real heavy duty stuff, some of it cracked but it's holdin'. The rest, if it didn't shatter, it was luck, I reckon." With a shrug, Ruby swept her sweaty bangs from her forehead. "Why?"

D stared out towards the castle. "There may have been more than an earthquake." He moved towards the cellar and stepped down onto the first step. "Would you mind taking me to Joneson's tomorrow at dawn?"

"Sure, I got a lotta work I need doin' today anyhow."

"Thank you."

Grabbing the cellar doors, D descended, closing them behind himself. It was dark and cool inside, with only a thin sliver of light coming from the gaps between the doors. His eyes adjusted quickly.

The cellar comprised of two rooms: the long, rectangular one he found himself in, and to the right, a larger storage area filled with shelves and crates. He could faintly smell both pickled and dried vegetables.

Bypassing the storage room, D walked straight ahead, boot heels clicking on the stone floor. There, propped up against the back wall, he found a trio of cots. D pulled one down and unfolded it. The thin mattress was a little musty but he had slept in worse places. There were no pillows and only one thin, scratchy blanket.

He shrugged his sheathed sword off and lay flat on his back, with his hat over his face. Hands folded against his belly, he cradled his sword at an angle across his torso.

Within moments, he was asleep.


	2. in the crowd

Memory and dream clashed like his blade rebounding off of a Noble's claws. Sparks flew and he jumped away. The Noble soared after him, cape a silhouette of black and red like wings. Candles snuffed out at the Noble's passing, leaving only darkness in their wake.

The endless windows along the right wall each showed a different landscape that seemed to flash by with how quickly he descended the stairs. He saw familiar farms and villages, distant mountain ranges and lakes, and long abandoned ruins, haunted by the remnants of the Nobility's reign. Places he might never see again.

Time after time, he fended off the Noble's attacks. It was an eternal battle from which he might never escape.

D opened his eyes.

He swung his legs off of the cot and stood in one smooth motion, then slung his sword on his back. Despite his fitful sleep, his gait was steady as he crossed the cellar. He climbed the stairs and pushed his way through the doors.

A gloomy grey dawn greeted him outside. Thick white fog obscured the ground. It swirled around his feet as he stepped out into the yard and rounded the house. That kind of fog could hide all kinds of monsters. Humans preferred to stay put during such conditions.

"Oh, you're up already?" Ruby called as she exited the house.

An old laser rifle peeked up from over her shoulder. She wore a pale poncho and a belt with extra ammunition around her hips. Clearly, she'd prepared for the morning's errand.

"I was just comin' to get you." Ruby pulled the front door shut, keys jangling as she locked up. "Well, c'mon, let's go pay Joneson a visit."

D inclined his head and waited politely near the gate. As soon as Ruby set off down the road, he fell in two steps behind and to the left of her, a polite distance that removed any chance of accidental touches.

Ruby led the way downhill, her hand always on the strap of her gun. She watched their surroundings closely and sometimes stopped altogether to listen to the eerie noises coming from the fog.

D sensed the creatures long before they came into sight. "Wait."

At the bottom of the hill, the road curved off to the left to join the main road. A tangle of thorny bushes lined both sides of the roads. Some of them had been allowed to grow out of control, forming deep, dark cospes that any number of creatures could hide in.

Down in the ditch, there lay a gory sight: the upper half of a tawny wolf with its eyes bulging out and tongue lolling. Something had ripped its throat open with vicious little bites and left it to rot.

The back half of the wolf lay shrouded in a bloody red mist. Bits of bone, flesh, and blood bobbed around in that mist. As they watched, those pieces began to dissolve.

"Hell, a night cloud," Ruby hissed. She drew her rifle and took aim but did not fire yet. "...What killed that wolf?"

D set his hand against the hilt of his sword. He scanned the area but saw nothing in the fog but the murky shapes of the thorny bushes. Nothing moved.

He glanced over at Ruby. "Can you handle it?"

"'Course."

The laser rifle whined as it wound up. The night cloud took no notice, oozing forward to envelope the rest of the corpse. The laser pierced it, burned through its bloodstained particles. The cloud hissed and burst into a spray of ichor, chunks of wolf splattering the ground.

The noise drew other things from the bushes. Countless small, chattering black shapes crawled up from the shadows. Their orange and red eyes glowed in the fog, like eerie sparks of hellfire. They gnashed their jagged teeth as jumped up into the air. Their small wings flapped rapidly, keeping them aloft.

"Imps--!" Ruby swung her gun towards the gathering swarm.

The swarm of imps flew at Ruby and D, claws outstretched and mouths open. The noise they made was an unholy, high pitched howl of chittering voices and wild laughter.

D stepped forward, drawing his sword, and swung it in a wide silver arc. The first wave of imps split apart against the keen age of his blade. Black blood splashed against his cheek.

The speed of his swing was so fast that he kicked up a harsh wind, blowing away the rest of the imps. Many slammed into the thorns and were impaled there. They flailed feebly, their babbling plaintive. The others scattered and vanished into the fog, their voices dwindling.

Ruby shouldered her gun and gave D an appraising look. "Well, well... Perhaps you'll be worth the money after all. Thanks, hunter."

"It was nothing." D flicked his sword outwards, flinging the blood from it. Then he sheathed the sword and turned his pale face towards Ruby. "Lead on."

"Yup, 'fore those biters come back."

The Joneson ranch was not far. It lay further south and a little to the west. D recalled passing the ranch as he rode into town. The outermost perimeter ended a mere foot away from the beginnings of the desert, just exactly where the weather controller's influence ended.

Ruby veered off the main road and onto a well-worn path. It led towards the center of the ranch, where several buildings sat. The ranch had multiple barns, a large stable, grain silos, a sprawling house, and three towering metal spires-- one topped by a weather vane, another a water tower, and the last an ancient antenna that blinked with a soft blue light.

The pastures were empty that time of morning. As Ruby and D neared the ranch house, they spotted the cow-pigs sleeping in clusters near the barns. Only a few stirred to watch them pass. It boded well that the animals were at ease.

When they reached the house, Ruby entered the porch and knocked loudly on the front door. D stayed outside, watching through the thin screen.

The woman that answered the door was young and sleepy-eyed. Her dark hair hung in messy waves down her back. On spotting D, she tugged at the sash of her sleeping robe, tying it tight to hide her pajamas.

"Oh, Ruby, hello." The woman pushed the door open wider. "What can we do for ya?"

"Howdy, Maggie." Ruby jerked her thumb over her shoulder to indicate D. "Got a guest I'm lookin' after. Promised him the use of one of my horses."

"Dang." A flush crept up onto Maggie's face as she leaned forward to get a closer look. Then she sank back on her heels, face paling. "Issat the dhampir?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Uh. Lemme get my boots..."

Maggie vanished back inside the house. There came the sound of stomping, and a clatter of metal against wood. She reappeared a moment later, still in her pajamas and robes but with the addition of shin-length rubber boots and a silver spear in hand.

"We've been havin' some trouble with monsters, ever since that castle showed up," she said, tapping her spear against her shoulder as she pulled the door shut behind her. "Er, no threat meant to ya, mister."

D shook his head faintly. "None taken."

"Cocky, huh?"

"No."

"Uh-huh." Maggie exited the porch to stand in front of D with one fist against her hip. She seemed well over her earlier hesitation, now that she had a weapon. "Well, that's alright, you'd have to be full of it to hunt vampires."

Ruby laughed as she followed Maggie. "Don't hassle him too hard now, we still need him to sort out that castle."

"Doubt he's gonna be cowed by the likes of _me_."

Without waiting for his input, of which there would be none, the two women set off towards the stables. D stayed a few steps behind.

He was privately glad when they began to chat amongst themselves, gossiping about the latest goings on in the town. The topics held little interest for him. Like always, he would leave as soon as the job was done. He had no need to know who was found kissing whom or who had a drinking problem or how many bastards a loose man had sired.

Every stall in the stable was occupied and then some. A pair of mecha horses sat at the very back with all the tack and supplies. Numerous cyborg horses stood in standby mode in all of the stalls on the right side.

On the left, a couple of highly prized purebred horses stamped their feet. Their neighbors were an assortment of farm animals ranging from a single meat beast slumbering beneath a mound of straw to a gaggle of mutant chickens vying for the best roosts. There was even a single Grimm Hen locked behind a double layer of bars in a two tier cage specifically designed to collect her laying in a cooling chamber below her nest.

Ruby strode down the aisle to stand before the cyborg horses at the very end. She rocked on her heels as she inspected them.

"What'd ya ride in on, anyhow?" Maggie turned her freckled face towards D. "Ya didn't walk, surely?"

D moved past her, approaching Ruby. "An outmode. It died just as I got here."

"Oh, that was yours. Ya prob'ly want to ask after Rana's salvagin' operation, then, they'll have scrapped it. Get your money's worth. The meat's prob'ly gone to the chickener farm."

"I don't care. I'll need my saddlebags, however."

"Best ask after the sheriff, then, make sure ya get everything back."

D nodded.

Talus City boasted a fair bit of wealth, to have so many productive farms and operations. The earthquake barely seemed to faze them. D couldn't help but wonder where they got it all. Perhaps they _did_ venture out into the desert to harvest the untapped oil wells.

"Here, these three're mine." Ruby gestured towards the cyborg horses. "Take your pick."

D looked between each of the horses.

One was a bulky dappled gray gelding with TXR-300 parts, an older model but well-suited for farm labor. He wouldn't take that away from a farmer, especially not after such a recent catastrophe that put their livelihoods at stake.

The second was a short, stocky pony with a coat that was a brown dark enough to be mistaken as black in some light. Its ENX0-10 mechanics were middle of the road, with flecks of rust near the grafted on ports.

The final option was a white and brown mare boasting shinier YR5K limbs, the sort of thing you'd want for a speedy ride and little else. It couldn't take many hits and its stamina was limited. A good racehorse, in other words.

D glanced towards the other stalls.

"Huh-uh, we're not sellin', mister," Maggie said. "Ya take care of that castle, mebbe my da'll consider, but 'till then..."

"Is there anyone else who would sell to me?"

Ruby scoffed. "What, ain't my horses good 'nuff for you?"

"I'd prefer not to take from a family that clearly needs them more."

That seemed to surprise Ruby enough that she snapped her mouth shut. Then she shook her head with an amused snort. "You're bein' awful soft."

"No."

"Sure, hunter." Ruby flapped her hand in front of her face dismissively, smiling. "Maggie, anyone else keep their livestock sorted?"

"Prob'ly a few," Maggie said. "The Rickter boys, Azahn, mebbe others. Doubtful any'd give up their animals without a fuss. Guessin' the sheriff didn't offer."

Rubbing her chin, Ruby nodded. "Mm. Might be a few day's errand and a hefty cost." She glanced sidelong at D. "You got that kinda time to spare?"

D suspected that he did. The mayor said the castle posed no immediate threat, so far as the Nobility went. However... if the castle's presence stirred up the local monsters enough to raid farms, he couldn't delay.

Besides, he loathed the idea of walking all over town, begging for a horse from villagers who very likely had more important work to do than haggling with a dhampir.

"I'll take a closer look at that one," he said, pointing out the dark little pony.

Ruby fetched a bridle from the back, then opened the stall to put it on the pony. She led it out and walked it up and down the aisle for D's inspection. It moved well enough, with no noticeable hitching or squeaking from its servos.

"Good 'nuff?" Ruby asked.

"Will it return to the farm on its own, should something happen?"

"Oughta."

"Fine."

After handing D the reins, Ruby retrieved a saddle. She had the cyborg pony saddled up in less than a minute. Patting it on the hind quarters, she nodded, satisfied.

"Y'all want breakfast?" Maggie asked.

Ruby walked towards the stable doors with a shake of her head. "No, thank you, Maggie. We're off."

Maggie blinked, mouth open. "You're not goin' with him, are ya?"

"Oh, naw, but I do gotta get back to tend to my own affairs. Still a lotta fencin' to patch up, as you know."

"Sure enough."

As they exchanged their farewells, D led his borrowed pony out into the yard. He glanced back at the two women, inclined his head, and then mounted the pony. Without another word, he rode away.

The little thing didn't struggle at all under his weight. He was so tall that it was a wonder his feet didn't drag on the ground. The cape had to be bundled up and draped side saddle to keep it from hanging down over the pony's rear.

The entity residing in his left hand gave an ugly little chortle. "The most feared vampire hunter in the whole world, riding around on an itty bitty pony..."

"Be silent."

"Heh. So touchy. Are you nervous about what you'll find in this castle?"

D clenched his left hand into a fist and didn't answer.

To the pony's credit, it did not falter as they navigated around potholes and other obstacles. D rode into town, heading for City Hall. Even if he didn't want to deal with the townies more than he had to, he still needed his saddlebags before he ventured out to the castle.

He found Sheriff Chavez sitting on the front steps of a grocery store. A pair of deputies stood off to the side, each picking through their breakfasts.

Chavez lifted a steaming mug of coffee and a brow. "Nice ride, hunter."

"I was told you might be able to help me get my saddlebags."

"And why's that?"

"My horse was salvaged."

"Ahhh." Chavez nodded and took a deep sip of his coffee. "You'll want to get out to Rana's, then. I'll take you."

"Thank you."

"Hyeap."

Chavez finished his coffee first. Then he set the mug aside and retrieved a tall, dark cyborg horse hitched to the nearby post.

"Y'all keep a sharp eye out," he told his deputies as he mounted up.

He led D out east, beyond the edge of town and past a thin copse of scraggly trees and shrubs. It was a quiet ride that took them a good ten minutes.

They passed a number of small farms, most of them apparently focused on crops. One of the larger farms boasted a fairly impressive flock of chickeners behind a triple layer of tall fences that curved inwards near the top, presumably to keep them from getting out.

A nine foot tall metal fence topped with barbed wire ringed the junkyard at the farthest end of town. Beyond the junkyard lay the beginnings of a forest. It was a lonely and remote location and the automated turrets posted around the perimeter spoke of how often it was hit by creatures of the night.

The sheriff rode right up to the front gate and peered up into the security camera staring down at them. "Oi, Rana, open up, got business with ya!"

The intercom beneath the camera crackled. "At this hour, sheriff? What crimes I done to merit this!"

"None at all, if ya've still got this man's saddlebags."

Silence was the only answer.

Then the gates swung open, revealing that the junkyard was full to bursting after the earthquake. Heaps of scrap metal and wood and parts filled up every available space, piled all the way to the top of the fence.

Chavez and D rode in, heading towards the trailer at the center of it all.

Rana hobbled out of the trailer. He was an old man, as brown as the cane he stooped over. "Saddlebags, ya say?"

"Yessir." Chavez dismounted and tipped his hat back. "Been told ya got your hands on this fellow's horse yesterday."

Squinting up at D, Rana's wrinkled lips thinned out. "Mmm. I don't know, this'n looks like trouble, sheriff."

"Quit ditherin', man. Sooner ya cough up the goods, sooner he can get to work."

"Work? What kinda work ya need somethin' like him for?"

"Don't play, Rana." Chavez huffed. "We got a Noble's castle loomin' over yonder. I know ya ain't blind or senile."

"Thank ya for your faith."

"Get on now, the saddlebags and every single thing ya found in 'em."

Throughout their exchange, D merely looked on. He could have made more of an imposing figure and frightened the old man into compliance. Instinct cautioned him to wait and see.

Rana worked his jaw side to side. Then he sighed deeply, as though troubled, and bobbed his head. The frizzy gray hairs clinging to the sides swayed with the motion. "Fine, fine, only... I wonder if ya might do an old man a favor, stranger."

"Rana..." Chavez's tone was a warning.

D said, "Speak your mind."

"There, see, a polite fellow that'll hear his elders out." Rana gave a toothless smile. "A simple enough thing, since you'll be goin' out that way anyhow." He swept one gnarled hand in a broad arc, indicating the junkyard at large. "They say the Nobility got machines that can compress matter lickety split. So I was wonderin' if ya'd keep an eye out."

"Alright."

"Oh, thank ya, you'll be makin' this old man's job so much easier!"

"My bags."

"Sure, sure, not a problem..."

Rana stumped his way back into his trailer. Through the open doorway, D heard a lot of noise in there, clattering and banging and muttering.

"Ya really don't need to go out of your way to do anything more'n ya are," Chavez said.

"I won't."

Incredulous, Chavez shook his head. "That's cold, then, tellin' an old man ya would."

"Don't misunderstand me. If such a thing exists, I will find it, so long as it does not interfere with my hunt."

"Huh..."

Rana came back out of his trailer with D's saddlebags draped over his shoulders. "Here y'are!"

D slid off his pony to take the bags. As he turned to secure them to the pony's saddle, he made a cursory check of their contents. He was probably short a few coins but he had so much wealth scattered throughout the Frontier that he found he didn't care much. Everything else was exactly as he'd left it.

"All good?" Chavez asked.

"Yes."

Tipping his hat forward, Chavez hopped onto his horse. "Thank ya kindly, Rana."

"Glad I could be of help," the old man chirped, as if he'd done a good deed without prompting. "Ya won't forget that favor?"

D pulled at the straps securing his bags to the saddle one last time to ensure they wouldn't come loose. Then he climbed into the saddle. "No."

With that, he pulled at the reins to turn the pony around and spurred it into a trot, then a gallop. He didn't wait up for the sheriff, nor did he spare any time for farewells.

His next destination was the castle.


	3. treading fire

One thing in the stocky little pony's favor: it excelled traversing difficult terrain that a larger warhorse would struggle with.

The earthquake caused so much damage to the roads that when D rode further from the center of town, he found it simpler to let the pony pick out easier paths offroad. It clambered up and down hills effortlessly and when it reached the desert, it seemed to have a sense for avoiding loose sand that it could slip on.

D kept a loose grip on the reins. He needed only keep it pointed towards the castle. Like many of the newer models of cyborg horse, it had more mechanical parts than it did organic. Likely, it had only enough brain matter to maintain its more useful instincts. It did not shy as they neared the castle. The eerie howl of the wind through the turrets fazed the pony not at all.

Entering the castle's shadow felt like stepping into a different realm. The temperature dropped at least twenty degrees. Light became sharper, everything standing in stark relief against inky black shadows. Sound became muffled and distant, all but for the wind's lonely song.

The pony came to a sudden stop when they reached the drawbridge. D nudged it with his spurs but it would not move. Though it showed no signs of distress, it locked its legs.

"Horse has got more sense than us," his left hand grumbled.

Sighing through his nose, D dismounted. He retrieved a bundle of wooden needles, a small first aid kit, and a half-empty food pack from his saddlebags. The rest he left. If he did not come back out from the castle, he would have no need for any of it.

After tucking all of his supplies into the pouches resting against his lower back, D crossed the drawbridge.

The wood groaned beneath him, soft and rotten. Far below the bridge, he could just make out the murky glimmer of water in the dark. Things moved around down there, incomprehensible shapes best not lingered over.

On the other side, the portcullis was open. D passed under the rusted spikes; water dripped down from them, splashing off his hat and cape. He glanced back once he was through the gate but found nothing out of the ordinary.

The outer courtyard looked ordinary too, albeit overgrown and littered with broken, worn down statues of winged people. They formed a pathway that branched to the ruins of a small chapel and the rest of the castle.

As D passed the chapel, he thought he saw a flicker of movement in the doorway. Something pale that flapped in a breeze. He stopped and turned his head towards it. Broken stones leaned crookedly to block the doorway. Smashed stained glass littered the path leading to it. He found nothing lurking there.

Still, something called to him from inside. D approached slowly, glass crunching under his boots. He peered in through one of the broken windows.

The interior of the chapel was pristine. A plush carpet ran between the orderly rows of pews, leading up to the altar. Sunlight streamed down through the stained glass windows onto a coffin on dais. A woman with golden hair lay atop the coffin, her hands folded around a bouquet of lilies. Nothing moved but for the motes dancing in the air.

The scene held a dream-like quality, as if he glimpsed something private, something personal.

D backed away. He retraced his steps back to the fork in the path, careful not to disturb anything else. When he glanced back out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw the woman in the window, but only for a split second.

The entity living in his hand stirred. "Doesn't seem malevolent."

"No."

Neither did it seem useful.

D walked on down the path, towards the inner walls of the castle.

The barbican looked ready to collapse, half the crumbly bricks loose. As D neared it, an entire section of the right side of it fell away in a heap, kicking up clouds of dust. The collapse set off a chain reaction that rippled down the wall. Bricks tumbled and splashed into the moat below.

D stood well back to pull his scarf up over his nose and waited until the dust settled. In the silence that followed, he let his gaze stray upwards. Thick, dark storm clouds loomed on the horizon. That storm would likely tear the whole section of wall down. He might need to find another way out later.

The portcullis had been smashed in. A battering ram leaned off the edge of the drawbridge, one end resting at the bottom of the moat. D spared little thought to what sort of battle must have taken place at the castle in ages past.

Twisted, rusted bars clawed at his cape as D ducked through the gap. He glanced around on the other side, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dark. Then he walked on, towards the other end of the gateway.

He did not come out in a courtyard as might normally be expected in a castle. No light welcomed him, only more darkness, thick and choking, reeking with the stench of unwashed bodies and unmentionable filth.

Solid stone walls closed in on him at all sides. He trailed his fingers against the right as he walked, for he could only see the faintest outlines. Occasionally, stone gave away to iron bars, spiky with rust.

Things rattled inside these cages. Things that snarled and hissed and gurgled. Things with bones that popped and crackled with every movement. Things that grabbed at him and his cloak but could not slow him. Their slippery, weak fingers fell away as he pressed forward, never slowing.

A flickering fire danced far ahead of him. It never seemed to get any closer, no matter how much he walked.

D stopped. "A pocket dimension?"

"No, this feels different," his left hand said.

With the slightest tilt of his head, D narrowed his eyes. Beneath the incessant grumbling of the castle's prisoners, he could make out a soft grinding noise, like stone on stone.

"It's moving..."

"Bingo."

D dashed forward, his cape and hair whipping behind him. Faster and faster he ran, until everything but the glow of the fire before him was little more than a blur of indistinct shadows.

Little by little, he caught up with the castle.

As if he hit a sticky wall of webs, he slowed, held back by the invisible threads. D dug his heels in and fought his way through. He felt it when the tension snapped and released him. Gracefully, he strode forward several steps instead of falling forward.

The castle lurched, rumbled, and settled, motionless.

The firelight came from a lantern hanging up from the floor by a short chain. It swayed gently in the air. Cautious, D approached it and poked it with one finger. It swung, exactly like a light hanging down would.

D looked up.

A pair of rough hewn wooden chairs and a table were fixed to the ceiling. Someone's abandoned dinner sat on the table: a dented metal plate with congealed grease and the partially eaten remains of some sort bird. An opened brown bottle and tin cup sat nearby, both filled with some sort of pale liquor. The liquid did not spill down.

D's own sense of gravity was unaffected. He lifted a corner of his cape and let it fall. It fell back down to his feet, instead of falling upwards.

While curious, the castle's peculiar layout didn't seem actively malicious. It simply _was_.

D turned his attention to his surroundings. The room he stood in was a small round fork between four hallways. All but one of those hallways seemed to be dark passages lined with jail cells.

The final hallway had lamps hanging from the floor at even intervals. D went that way and found that the floor--ceiling?--gently angled downwards.

He passed a few doorways, all of them leading to small bedrooms with simple bunks and storage chests on the floor above him. They held nothing of interest for him so he did not slow to check them all.

At the end of the hall, double doors opened into what looked like an armory. Mannequins in full suits of armor; barrels full of swords; and shelves with countless torture implements littered the floor.

On the far side, D spotted another pair of double doors and a stairwell. He stepped over the lintel and through the doorway.

As his foot came down, he felt like the ceiling dropped out from under him and he fell, tumbling head over heels through the air.

Then his boot clicked down on wood, not stone. Gravity rushed to his head, dragging at his belongings so that they hung upwards. He caught his hat and his sword before they could fall.

D now stood on the floor in the armory.

He looked over his shoulder. Beyond the door he just came through, he saw the hallway rightside up. Anyone else might have found the change disorienting. D merely continued on his way.

As he crossed the room, the chains and tools on the shelves began to rattle. D came to a stop in the middle of the room and pressed his thumb against the crossguard of his sword to ease it from its scabbard.

A scalpel flashed through the air. He leaned slightly to the side to avoid it. The thing hit the far wall hard enough to become embedded in stone.

He did not have time to marvel at it, as dozens of other objects came flying at him from all sides. D ducked and weaved and leapt and spun to avoid it all, drawing his sword to knock away the larger objects. He fought one-handed, for he still held his hat in his left hand. The clamor of objects smashing off the walls became so great that it was like a roar of noise.

Barrels spilled over and weapons soared through the air. Dozens of blades with razor edges, heavy hammers designed to break bones, maces and flails bristling with spikes, and polearms of every length and style came at him. He fended off every one of them, his blade sparking with each impact.

By the end of it, he stood in the middle of a pile of weapons. D held his sword at a downward angle, not yet lowering his guard, and scanned the room.

The armored mannequins began to vibrate, their visors clanking open and closed. So too did the weapons heaped at his feet.

"This is a waste of time," his left hand complained. "Just go!"

D went, bent forward at the waist as his long legs pumped. He reached the stairwell right as the first sword sliced through the air. Pounding up the circular stairwell, he left behind a whirling storm of metal, but not for long.

The flying weapons clanged off the doorway and walls as they spilled into the tower. D stayed close to the wall as the swarm of weaponry wooshed up, hit the ceiling at the top, and came crashing down again. As soon as they reached the bottom, they surged upwards once more.

Stray weapons bounced and ricocheted, whistling through the air. D swatted a few of them away rather than be impaled. Others smashed into the wall, became deeply embedded, and moved no more.

Something huge and heavy crashed up the stairs behind him. D picked up the pace, faster and faster. He saw a massive suit of armor thundering up the stairs far below. As it climbed, the stairs cracked and broke away behind it. With the weapons still whirling through the center, there would be no escape except upwards.

D kept climbing, all the way to the top. He had no other choice.

At the top of the tower, he narrowly avoided the swarm of weapons crashing into the ceiling again by rushing through an open doorway that revealed a long walkway beneath a stormy sky.

He never made it to that walkway. On stepping through the door, he was transported somewhere else. He felt a nauseating pull at his guts as if they might unspool and spill out onto the ground...

D stood at the end of a long, dark hallway. The doors slammed shut behind him, a bang that echoed ahead of him to announce his presence to whatever might be lurking.

Heavy, mildewy drapes covered the foggy windows on the left. Monstrous stone statues hunkered near every door on the right. Thick, dusty cobwebs swayed from the rafters. Ancient silver chandeliers with dozens of yellowed, waxy candles glowed with an eerie blue light.

Of course, D was on the ceiling. Gravity once again had no meaning.

He pulled his hat on and sheathed his sword. With one last flourish of his cape, he set off at a brisk walk, skirting the chandeliers. He waded through the cobwebs, heedless of the clinging threads.

D tried each of the doors, standing on his tiptoes to reach the door knobs. The knobs rattled but would not turn. When he tried to brute force them, the doors would not be budged. He knocked at one of the doors. There was a lack of hollow reverberation, as though the door were solid.

And yet, there came a knock-knock, mirroring his own. Every other door copied the first, knocking all the way down the hall.

The doors he'd come through began to rattle. D whirled towards them, resting his fingertips against the hilt of his sword. The rattling became a steady banging and the doors bulged outwards with each thud. D's hand tightened around the hilt. The doors exploded inwards and chunks of wood flew threw the air, smashing through windows and slicing up curtains.

A sliver of glass whizzed past D's face, nicking his cheek. A thin line of blood dripped down slower than the wound closed.

A massive, rusty metal arm swung through the doorway. The gauntleted hand attached smashed against the ceiling, leaving spiderwebbed cracks in the stone, then a second hand joined the first. Taloned fingers gouged lines in the stone as it dragged the rest of its body through the door.

The giant, animated armor of before broke the door frame into so many pieces as it lurched into the hallway. A chunk of the frame bounced off a spiked pauldron. Its visor clanked open and closed rapidly but nothing was inside but darkness, cold and pitch black and full of malice.

As the thing advanced, D drew his sword. All around him, the doors continued to knock, the same cadence as before. Knock-knock, knock-knock, all up and down the hall, going down to one end, then back the other way. They paused with each clanking thud of the armor's footsteps before furtively continuing.

Suddenly, the armor crouched, then burst into a mad dash. D lept and grabbed the outstretched arm of one of the stone statues overhead. He swung his body up as the armor rushed past, narrowly avoiding getting clipped.

Then he shoved his feet against the floor to swing back, and let go of the statue, twisting in the air to bring his sword in a downward arc. Metal screeched as he cut a deep line through the backplate, possible only because of his unholy strength.

The armor juttered and flailed its arms outward in a wide arc. D ducked. The arm that swung over his head smashed through more windows. The other left a huge crack in the wall.

D jumped away as the armor spun towards him. Its left arm smacked against one of the doors and splintered the wood. As it started towards D, the door gave one last groaning crack before falling forward with a thud that kicked up debris.

Shadows spilled into the room. Fast and skittering and jittering like nothing natural, they surged up the armor's legs. It thrashed as the shadows jammed themselves into the crevices between layers of plate.

Throwing its head back, visor opened wide, the armor let out a shriek, the raspy scrape of metal against metal. Hundreds of tiny flailing shadowy limbs surged up out of the gap. Little claws grasped blindly at the edges of the visor and yanked it shut with one very final clang.

The armor crouched, taloned fingers splayed. Its helmet swayed back and forth as it fixed its attention fully on D. The shadow beneath it became thick and dark, oozing slowly outwards.

Something inside the armor now, D realized, and it was nothing he wanted to get trapped by, not in a dead end hallway with nowhere to go. He flicked his eyes to the side, towards the stormy skies beyond broken windows.

The armor charged forward, scraping its talons along the ceiling behind it in a spray of sparks. D threw himself to the side, out through the window.

In the split second that he fluttered in midair, cloak billowing around him, he saw the armor skid to a halt and throw its gauntlets out at him. The gauntlets flew through the air, the left faster than the right. D knocked it away with his sword as he began to fall. It snapped back to its owner.

The right gauntlet smashed into him, taloned fingers wrapped around his midsection. The thin thread of shadows connecting the gauntlet to its owner thickened and yanked back towards the windows at blinding speed. The left gauntlet awaited at the end, talons curved to strike at his head.

D jammed his sword into the joints of the right gauntlet's thumb. He shoved at it like a crowbar, prising the metal apart. The thumb's tip popped off and fell away, giving him just enough wiggle room.

As the right gauntlet yanked him in through the windows, D kicked loose and tucked his body, rolling across the ceiling. The left gauntlet's talons sliced through the ends of his cape but missed him entirely.

Before the armor could finish turning on him again, D lunged up to his feet and darted in. He shoved his sword beneath a rondel at the right shoulder. Swiping the blade inwards, he cut through the straps holding the round piece of metal in place. It fell away with a thunk.

Hundreds of shadowy arms surged out, reaching and grasping and flailing. At the same time, the armor swung its left gauntlet at D as if to pin him against the breastplate. D ducked and sidestepped around behind the armor. The shadows arced out and around the armor, following D.

He sought out the gap in the right shoulder. His sword flashed into it, cut through more straps. The entire arm fell away as D avoided the grasping shadows. With no arm in their way, the shadows moved faster, wildly thrashing against the wall and ceiling, leaving great cracks in both.

D did not account for the fact that the armor could move separately of the shadowy creature inhabiting it. The armor swung its body the other way and slammed its upper arm into D's middle. He coughed up spit with a ragged gasp, doubled over, and went flying.

The armor got itself fully turned around and charged on him. D hit the wall and the armor smashed into him.

The shadows sprayed off the wall like a jet of water, splashing every which way. As soon as the inky black substance touched D, it hissed like heated metal touching cold water. D went stiff and shuddered as a cold shock coursed through his body. His hand spasmed and he dropped his sword.

The whole lot of shadows surged in on its prey, wrapping him up in oily darkness. It squeezed tighter and tighter, then began to drag him in against the open gap in the armor. He could not possibly fit through the hole but it tried anyway, bashing him against metal with every intent to break and bend him in unnatural ways.

"Really? I have to do all the work, don't I?" his left hand complained. "I can't believe you'd be bested by something like this..."

The ugly little face pushed itself up through his skin to manifest on his left palm. It opened its wide, gap toothed mouth and took a huge bite of shadows. The armor jerked away, as if pained, but it was too late, the left hand had a mouthful of the shadows. Like a black hole, the left hand sucked inwards, devouring not only the shadows but the armor too.

D fell to his knees and gasped softly.

The left hand spit a black-stained chunk of metal out. "Ugh, that was nasty. Get it together, kid."


	4. after dark

In the aftermath, there came a silence so thick that D's ears rang with it. The sky outside the windows darkened as black clouds roiled and rumbled with the faint flickers of lightning. Gloom shrouded the hallway, darker than before.

D rose to his feet. The bruises and broken rib he'd suffered from the fight faded between one breath and the next. His chest loosened as the pain eased and he breathed deep.

He brought his sword up before him, tilting it in the poor light to inspect the keen edge. Signs of wear showed, particularly near the middle. D frowned and touched his thumb to a barely noticeable dent in the metal. He would need to take some time to sharpen the blade before the next fight...

But some base instinct told him not to linger in that hallway.

As D sheathed his sword, he glanced sidelong towards the doors. The one the shadows had spilled out from revealed an endless black void. No more knocking taunted him from the others.

As it was the only door available to him, barring going _back_ , D approached the pitch black room. He stood there in the doorway and heard a high, eerie howling of wind. It tugged at his cape and hair, teased the brim of his hat. If he listened closely, he thought he could hear the whispered promises of something that coveted the light in him.

"You're not seriously considering going in there, are you?"

"What other choice is there?" he asked.

"The windows, for a start."

D looked over his shoulder.

A sudden streak of lightning arcing down from the sky lit up the hall, casting everything in stark white against black shadows. D closed his eyes against the blurry impressions burned against the back of his skull. Thunder crashed all around belatedly, a reverberation that shook him to his core.

Outwardly, D showed no real reaction. At most, he looked tired and bored.

When the noise died back down, D said, "...I have a feeling something doesn't want us going that way."

"It's on your head if something happens in there," the left hand grumbled.

D braced his hands against either side of the doorway. He leaned into the room to peer down but he found nothing. No floor, no ceiling, no walls. Just blank, black nothingness.

He leaned back out, gripping the door frame tightly, then flung himself in. His cloak flapped noisily as he fell. Yet, he was not falling _down_ , but up.

High above him, he saw a distant landscape, as if seen from the sky. It grew larger and larger, zooming up to meet him. D braced himself for an impact that never came, his arms thrown over his face, legs tucked.

Suddenly, he crouched on solid ground.

Blinking, D lifted his head and lowered his arms.

Beneath his boots, criss-crossing metal framed thick glass panes. The stormy sky flashed below him. Rain fell upwards, spattering against the glass. It pooled and ran in rivulets contrary to gravity.

D got to his feet and looked around. He stood on the glass ceiling above a square courtyard overgrown with thick, twisting vines.

The vines were covered in huge, yellow-flecked leaves and eye-catching blue bulbs. They wrapped around the pillars and arches supporting the two levels of open-faced hallways that surrounded the courtyard. The vines had pushed through some of the doors, filling them with tangled plant life.

Some of the curling tips of the vines had made it to the ceiling, spreading outwards to cover the glass. In one corner, water dripped down through cracked glass and dribbled up the length of the vines to pool into a puddle on the ground.

D carefully crossed the glass ceiling, always stepping along the metal support beams rather than trust his weight near the middle of window panes. He went away from the cracks, towards a gap in the vines.

The click of his boot heels disturbed the plant. On the vines nearest to him, the bulbs slowly unfolded, revealing a lurid yellow center, splotched with red.

Wary, D stopped to watch. 

The flowers quivered and a shower of pollen floated to him. The tips of the stamen glowed with a gentle orange light, like a warm fire beckoning him. Unconsciously, D took a step towards the vines.

The entity in his left hand demanded, "What's gotten into you!? Knock it off!"

D snapped his cloak outwards to flap the pollen away. Then he pulled his scarf up over his nose, pulling it tight so it wouldn't slip.

More and more buds opened up to reveal beautiful blossoms, starting with those nearest to him, going all the way up into the courtyard above. D followed the flow of color with his eyes.

There, at the center of the largest tangle of vines, lay a large, dark bud. It was a blue so deep that it looked purple, streaked with delicate red veins.

The outer petals unfolded slowly, revealing another layer of lighter blues. Those, too, unfurled, one petal at a time. The insides were bright spots of yellow, going pink and red near their center.

More and more and more petals spread outwards. The innermost layer revealed a bloody red, ringed in curved white thorns. A hungry mouth, opened wide.

A gorgeous humanoid creature of indeterminate gender and indescribable beauty rose from the depths and folded their arms atop the petals. Their skin was as dark as the night and just as lovely. Thick, bushy brown hair framed their face, amber at the tips.

D met their eyes. It was like looking up at the full moon, silver bright and luminescent. The corners of their eyes crinkled when they smiled to reveal rows of pearly white, razor sharp teeth.

All around him, shimmering pollen sprayed from the smaller blossoms. It dusted him in gold, clung to his eyelashes, his hat, his hair, his cape.

The creature held their arms out towards him, beckoning with slow rolling motions of their hands. A low, musical voice sang to him, "Come, my lord..."

D set his hand against the hilt of his sword, still staring the creature down.

The vines nearest to D stirred, lifting up from the surfaces they were stuck to. They withdrew a few inches at a time and coiled in on each other. Many of the blossoms folded back up into buds.

"Parlay," the creature said. "Please."

"Talk, then."

"Would you come closer, that we might talk face-to-face, like civilized folk?"

"That seems a trap."

"No, I-- I promise, cut my head off if I am treacherous, my lord." The creature laid themself out over their petals and lay prone. "I have need of a favor that might be beneficial to us both, if only you would hear me out."

D narrowed his eyes, considering.

"You know this is a trap, right?" his left hand asked.

"Probably."

He dropped his hand away from his sword, then turned and jumped over one of the arches, onto the upper hallway's ceiling. The vines withdrew before him as he walked forward.

Turning right at the end, he found a broken stairwell with a gap that he could jump through to climb to the lower hall. That put D roughly at level with the creature but he had no way to get any closer.

The creature gathered many of their vines together into one mass. "Here, my lord..."

They hooked the ends of the vines over the lintel, forming an angled bridge between themself and D. All of the blossoms on those vines were turned away and closed up.

Perhaps the creature truly intended to honor the rules of parlay. Perhaps it could do nothing else. Some monstrous creatures were bound to specific rules, like the fey courts of old.

D put one foot out onto the bridge. It did not part and drop him when he put his full weight on it. In fact, it did not move in the slightest. Neither did the creature--they watched politely with their hands folded on the petal in front of them.

He came to a stop about two feet back from the tips of the creature's petals. "Speak."

"I won't ask your business, my lord, but it's clear to me that this castle does not want you here." The creature flicked its gaze up and down D's body. "If you wish to leave here, then I can help you find your way."

"In exchange for what?"

Lifting one arm, the creature pointed to the glass ceiling. "Terrible, malicious creatures lurk on the roof. They torment me daily. In return for putting your feet on the ground as they should be, I would ask you to destroy these monsters."

"What are they?"

"Deformed beasts made of stone. Guardians that lurk upon rooftops, I'm told."

"Do you know how many?"

"No, I'm sorry, my lord." The creature shook their head; their hair bobbed like the fluff on a dandelion. "They only ever come in small groups."

D peered down at the glass ceiling. Rain continued to patter steadily against it from clouds no longer rolling or flashing. It would be a simple matter to drop down there and smash through the glass. He wondered if he would float off into the sky, though.

He faced the creature. "How will you uphold your end of the bargain?"

"I need only hold your hand for a moment, my lord."

The creature held their hand out with the palm offered and fingers spread. A friendly, inviting gesture that fell short because of the thorns all around them. D frowned, tongue tucked against the roof of his mouth.

Even knowing it for a fool's errand, D stepped forward. The toes of his boots touched the edge of thorny petals. He laid his left hand against the creature's. Dark fingers wrapped around his hand and squeezed tight. The creature smiled, all teeth, and pulled.

D did not move.

"Let go, my lord--"

"And then what, become your supper?"

"No, no, it's not, no, not at all!"

The countenanced carbuncle climbed up through D's arm and pushed itself way out of the palm. Laughing meanly, it sank its teeth into the creature's flesh and latched on.

They screamed, fingers spasming, and tried to pull away. To no avail, nothing could escape D's left hand once caught.

"No, please, oh, it hurts, don't--"

"Tell me what you intended," D said. "If you were sincere, you should be able to explain the method."

"Ohh." The creature groaned, all but thrashing against the deadly hold. "Please, have mercy, my lord..." Wincing, they hunched, tears slipping down their cheeks. "I am, I am-- on another plane. Right side up, yes, yes, please, I only needed to pull you down here. That's all, I swear it, _please_!"

D tilted his head. Then he nodded, very slightly. "Let go."

The left hand opened its mouth, releasing the creature. It spit out a glob of flesh. "Ugh, nothing tastes good here!"

The creature curled in on themself, tucking their arm close to their middle. A thick green ichor ran from the hole in their hand, sticky and wretched-smelling. All but the vines D stood on withdrew into kinked up knots around them. They wept quietly with shaking shoulders.

Wordless, D withdrew a black handkerchief embroidered with white and gold deer skeletons. He shook it out, then held it towards the creature between his forefinger and middle finger.

It took some time for them to notice. When they did, they sniffled and dropped their gaze. "Have I... am I so deserving of, of such cruelty, my lord?"

D merely twitched the fingers holding the handkerchief.

Sighing, the creature took it. They wound it around their hand and tied it off. The green ichor seeped through it in moments. They swiped at the thin trail of ichor that dripped down their wrist.

"You and the lord of this castle... you're the same," the creature muttered, sulky.

A red glint came to D's pitch black eyes. "The lord?"

"You're going... to see him, are you not?"

"Yes. Where is he?"

"Oh... Far from here, in the deepest, darkest shadow of the castle, where no light can reach." The creature sighed, dreamily, and sank down onto their petals, resting their cheek atop folded arms. "He hasn't visited me in so long..."

"How do I get there?"

"You will, eventually, if you keep going. Everyone does."

"Then our bargain, will you still honor it?"

The creature lifted their head, lips pursed. "Don't hurt me again, my lord."

"I will not."

Cautiously, the creature held their uninjured hand out to him. This time, he set his right hand into it and did not resist when they pulled. The world tilted strangely as his feet left the vines. His head swum, his stomach sloshing.

The creature set him down on the grass amid their vines. They let him go and withdrew into their petals. The outer layers of their flower tucked back up, as if to get away from him.

Though D stood on the ground, he once again felt the pull of gravity as though he were upside down, exactly as it had been in the armory. He grabbed his hat and sword. His cape and hair hung upwards, as if pulled by some invisible force.

"I do not have the strength to pull you entirely into my plane, my lord," the creature admitted. "I can only... grant you a temporary stay."

"Will I fall off the roof, into the sky?"

"No, this should last until you pass through another door. Then the castle will take you."

"Take me where?"

"To whatever it wants to show you, I suppose..."

"You speak as if it were more than a place."

The creature only smiled as if shy and shook their head, withdrawing further into their petals. The blossom folded up almost completely until only their shoulders and head were visible.

They pointed up towards the glass ceiling. As they did so, their vines shot out and upwards, forming a huge, solid pillar with smaller vines wound loosely around it in a sort of ramp. The pillar of vines punched through some of the glass panels. Shards of glass flew every which way, glinting as they fell.

When the last shard hit the ground, the creature said, "Go and stop those monsters from tormenting me further."

D nodded. He hopped over to the vine and began to climb up, still clutching his hat and sword in either hand. Upon nearing the top, he saw that the vines hadn't managed to put a dent in the metal bars. Instead, the ends wound around the bars to serve as an anchor.

When he climbed through and looked back down, D thought the criss-crossing bars looked like a cage. He couldn't help but wonder where the outer edges of the cage were and why the creature needed caging.

Then he turned away, putting those useless thoughts aside.

The rain hitting his head and soaking through his hair annoyed him. D tucked his sword and scabbard under one arm. Then he gathered his wet hair up into a bun, winding it tight. He held his hat against his head, withdrew a pair of thin silver pins from the band, and secured it to his hair. It was not ideal but it would have to do until gravity returned to normal.

That done, he gripped his sword's scabbard in one hand and rested the other against the hilt. D turned in place, taking in his surroundings.

Before him lay multiple levels of sloped rooftops, battlements and wall-walks, towers and turrets. Beyond that, the architecture became Escher in nature--twisting spirals and loops, archways that served no purpose, stairs that turned back on themselves.

Adorning every available ledge were countless stone figures, each more grotesque than the last. Some were worn down by exposure to the weather. Others looked new cut, fresh from an artist's studio.

D crossed the glass ceiling and stepped up onto a sloped roof. The tiles were slick underfoot but he walked steadily forward. To his left and right, the stone statues vibrated. The stone cracked around their necks and their heads turned to follow him. He stopped when he reached the middle of the roof and waited.

The rattling of the statues intensified. Cracks spread across the larger ones, radiating outwards from their necks.

One that had four legs and wings and horns broke free first. Bits of stone flew every which way as it took to the air with a piercing cry. It swooped down, claws outstretched.

D spun, drew his sword, and sliced it from snout to groin in one graceful motion.

The pieces became stone as they fell, bouncing and shattering. One of the larger pieces smashed into a cluster of smaller statues and knocked them off the edge.

Two other statues snarled as they sprang to life. One with a barrel chest and thick legs charged at him from behind, while a graceful, sinuous creature made of round scales circled overhead and came at his face.

D made short work of them too.

He jumped to slice the head off the serpent, then came down onto the other one's back to hack through its thick neck. The serpent soared off and smashed into a distant tower.

Even without a head, the charging one kept going, careening off the edge of the roof to take out many of its companions. D kicked off its back at the last second, doing a graceful flip to land on his toes with his arms spread.

More and more and more creatures woke and charged in and died against his blade. D fought through them all, and when that roof was clear, he continued on to the next. He fought things with too many eyes, too many teeth, too many limbs. All of it fake, all of it returned to stone as soon as he cut the life from it.

When it was done, he stood atop a large round tower, high above the rest of the castle. The rain stopped, though the clouds continued to press down, an oppressive grey weight.

D wiped his sword against his cloak, then sheathed it. He paced a slow circle along the spiked parapet.

North of him, he spotted a section of a huge rooftop collapsed inwards. D climbed the parapet and dropped down there. Tiles skidded beneath his feet; one of them toppled down into the hole with a clatter.

A single light flicked on in the gloom below. D narrowed his eyes as he focused on it. It looked like a brass lantern sitting on a wooden table. The weak light illuminated rows of moldering books.

D jumped through the hole. He landed on wet carpet that squelched under his boots. All around him, shelves lined every wall and formed a labyrinth of books.

The castle rumbled. Overhead, the hole in the roof slid shut, as if sealed by an automated trap door. D watched it without moving. The shattered remains of the roof still sat piled against the wall. Books and shelves lay in a heap around the devastation, spilled out over the floor.

When the last sliver of gray light faded away, D lowered his head.

He looked around, then walked towards the lantern. As soon as he stepped into the pool of light, another lantern flicked on further down. D continued on, following the lights as they appeared. Behind him, the light went out again.

The lights did not take him in a straight line. They wound through the stacks, left and right and around and zigzagging at random. D knew he would never be able to find his way back without the light.

He entered a gap in the stacks. A multitude of lanterns lit up a warm and inviting sitting area with overstuffed armchairs and a couch large enough to sleep on, piled high with pillows. Thick, colorful rugs overlapped on the floor.

There was no other exit. When D turned back, there was no exit at all. He looked up, but the walls of books seemed to go on forever into a deep, dark void.

"You cannot keep me here."

D held his left hand up, fingers splayed. The entity within showed its face with a grumble, then peered around.

"Definitely a pocket space, but there's an end to it."

"Where?"

"Way up there."

"Can we undo the plant's charm?"

"I think so..." His left hand dropped down, swaying back and forth as it inspected the floor around D's feet. "I'll need water and air, at least."

D brought his right hand to his mouth and bit it. He held the bleeding holes above the face in his left palm. It drink greedily until the wounds closed up. Then it sucked in deep lungfuls of air.

Power crackled and surged around the left hand. The thing exhaled sharply and a gale wind kicked up around D. He kicked off from the ground and floated weightlessly upwards.

The warmth of the lights drifted away as he rose upwards. Soon, D was lost in darkness, seeing only the faintest outline of endless shelves, hearing the rustle of his cape and the rush of wind past his ears.

"Hope you don't regret this," his left hand muttered.


	5. lost in a city

The shelves faded away to nothingness and still D fell. He clutched his sheathed sword across his chest, thumb pressed tight to the guard to keep it secure. The pins in his hair wouldn't keep his hat in place, so he held it down with his other hand.

He fell and the seconds became minutes became hours became days became years became decades and he fell.

His boots clacked against stone.

Slowly, he became aware of a faint grey light that came through thin lines in the shape of a square. D blinked down at it, then knelt and felt along the cracks. He found a round metal handle. Yanking at it, he revealed a trap door and the gloomy grey sky below.

The thing in his left hand asked, "You're not gonna jump, are you?"

D looked back up. Far, far above was a microscopic dot of light, likely the sitting area he'd jumped from a lifetime ago. He peered around himself but found no other openings--no windows, no doors.

"No choice."

He gripped the trap door frame and slid through without letting go. For a split second, D dangled in the sky. The wind tugged at his cape like a solid, living thing. The pull became so great that not even he could hang on.

He fell.

But not straight down--instead, the castle's strange magic pulled at him so that he arced through the air and did a kind of u-turn as gravity caught him.

Color blurred around him. The endless expanse of cloudy sky gave away to a gigantic rectangular atrium made of steel and glass with a skylight ceiling. Multiple levels of stone platforms ringed the room, brutalist in design but draped in plants.

D landed in a crouch on the skylight.

At first, he wondered if he'd landed in another greenhouse. Then he saw the monstrous skeleton hanging from thick steel cables. It looked like some kind of lesser dragon, though its forelimbs were shriveled and its jaws were big enough to swallow a horse whole.

Through the bones, he saw other skeletal displays on the ground floor, as well as numerous benches, tables, and empty planters.

The upper level of the atrium seemed to hold yet more collections: bones, rocks, taxidermied creatures, and artifacts belonging to cultures long forgotten. D's point of view restricted how much he could see on the lower levels, but he was willing to bet they held more of the same.

As gravity no longer had any interest in snatching his things, D crossed the skylight. He felt some of the glass creak beneath his boots. One panel cracked outright. He moved quicker after that, darting to the edge of the skylight to jump onto the ceiling of one of the halls ringing the atrium.

With solid stone underfoot again, D slowed to a more casual walk. His boots echoed eerily until he shifted his weight onto his toes to keep the heels from clacking.

None of the bones moved. They seemed to know they were lifeless, unlike the gargoyles of before. Neither did the suits of armor. The exhibits were all dusty and draped in cobwebs--very likely, no one had seen any of them in centuries. Maybe longer. D recognized very little of the items on display.

Each level of the atrium was connected by ramps at one end. Thus, each level consisted of three long halls, making for three right turns D had to make to reach the next ramp.

It was a long, quiet walk.

Somehow, he was not comforted by the abundance of natural light pouring in through the skylight. Below the hanging skeleton, everything was cast in its shadow. The shape of teeth curved up over the walls, impossibly long claws reach out, and endless ribs encased everything inside a dead and empty chest.

D came to a stop suddenly and tilted his head. He thought he heard a soft scraping sound but as soon as he listened closely, it faded away.

Frowning, he took a few more steps. The sound came again.

D whirled around, cape flowing, and drew a handful of wooden needles from his belt pouch. He held them between his fingers and raised his hand.

Nothing was there.

Yet, something moved--the shadow.

It looked like some solid shape stretching between the bones. D lifted his gaze from the slow-growing shadow to the skeleton suspended high above.

It wasn't really a skeleton anymore. Goopy red flesh flowed out from the spine and filled out all the hollows. As D watched, the thing grew organs, veins, muscle and tendons, and ragged green-grey flesh. There wasn't enough flesh to cover all of its extremities--the tip of the tail, feet, and rib cage remained exposed.

The last thing to form were bulbous, milky white eyes that rolled in the sockets. Viscera dribbled from them, ran down the monster's jaws, and splattered against the ground.

The thing gave a raspy roar that grew in volume. The noise reverberated and bounced off the walls until it sounded like there were dozens of monsters.

It thrashed once to snap the wires holding it up. Then it plummeted to the ground and landed with a thud, crashing through the other displays and kicking up huge clouds of dust and debris. D grabbed the edge of his cape and pulled it up over his face to protect his eyes.

"You've got no kind of luck today, kid," his left hand grumbled. "Even I'm getting tired."

Sighing, D let go of his cape once the dust settled. As he watched the monster stomp around to the ramp at the end of the hallway, he became aware of two things:

The hallways ringing the atrium were more than large enough for the monster to fit, though there was not much room to squeeze by it at either side. Whoever designed the atrium _knew_ the monster would be patrolling the area.

And, once he drew his sword, D saw that the dent on the edge had worsened from his fight with the gargoyles. A small hairline crack at the bottom of the dent spelled the end of the sword's use if he pushed his luck. D shoved the sword back into its sheath. He had no other weapons that would work on a monster that size.

The monster opened its mouth wide, exhaling noxious yellow fog. D backed off. The scarf had slipped down around his neck again, and he quickly pulled it back up over his nose and held it there with his right hand.

"Can you do something about this?" D asked.

"What do you want me to do? That's no easy snack!"

"The fog, then. I'll sort out the rest myself."

"Oh, fine."

D raised his left hand, fingers spread. The mouth there opened wide, like a black hole. Everything in front of it started to get pulled in, caught in a swirling vortex of air. The fog vanished quickly and was soon followed by dust and smaller chunks of debris.

Even the monster struggled against the pull. It growled as it stomped its feet, digging its claws into the floor and throwing its weight the other way.

All along the wall, numerous shields on display rattled. The bolts holding them down ripped up in increments and were sucked in.

The shields came flying at D a split second later. He clenched his left hand, cutting off the suction, and sidestepped. The shields spun past him and clanged off the walls. One smashed through a glass display case. Another sliced a tapestry in half and embedded its razor edge into the wall, vibrating from the force.

The monster let out another one of its echoing, raspy roars. It charged down the hallway at D, neck stretched upwards so that its upper teeth scraped along the ceiling, forming a horrible kind of bulldozer.

D turned and fled. He became a blur of darkness, going as fast as he could. When the hall turned sharply, he jumped, bouncing off the wall, and launched himself forward to keep going. The monster barreled after him, its footsteps thunderous, followed by crashing and banging as it knocked everything over.

Shield displays gave away to flails and maces. Though he could use such things, D bypassed them.

Polearms were next. He grabbed a javelin and hurled it back, spearing the monster through the tongue. It staggered with a snarl, skidding to a temporary stop to shake its mouth out. Blood and ichor splattered everywhere.

D kept going, sprinting past the rest of the spears. Whips seemed a useless sort of weapon, though he'd seen Doris use hers to great effect. The bows were equally dismissed. If he thought arrows would have any impact on the monster, he would have launched both his wooden and silver needles at it already.

Finally, on the second floor, he found various axes, ranging from small throwing hatchets to double bladed great axes. D wrenched one of the larger ones off the wall, spun in a tight circle, and lobbed it at the monster's face right as it rounded the corner. With a meaty _thunk_ , it sank into the monster's eye.

The thing _screamed_ , a noise of sheer fury that shook the very foundation of the castle. The walls cracked from the floor to the ceiling, glass shattered in a spray of razor sharp shards, and ancient artifacts crumbled to dust as they fell. Even D staggered.

The quake continued long after the noise dropped off. D backed away, one step a time, one arm stretched out towards the wall as his balance wobbled.

As if drawn by a magnet, debris and ruined artifacts and weapons lifted up and flew through the air towards the monster. They clanked together at its back, spilled down over its hide in a kind of carapace. Metal, glass, and wood covered every potential weak point, especially the open rib cage and the injured eye.

The monster stomped forward, its new makeshift armor clattering with every step. It swung its head down low, jaws opened wide, and hissed. It kicked one back leg, then the other in preparation for charging.

D ran again. He had no other choice, not when the monster had taken every available weapon for itself.

The monster gave chase. Bits of the carapace shook loose and fell in its wake. More and more objects flew off the walls and out of their display cases to replace what was lost.

The cacophony of noise it made was so horrific, echoing all throughout the atrium, that D found it hard to think. He became little more than a blur of instinct, running, kicking off walls, and running some more.

On the third floor, he finally found the swords. D couldn't slow to choose a specific one, so he grabbed the first one he could. It was a long skinny rapier with a pearl handle. The blade had a faint wobble when he spun towards the charging monster with it held aloft.

The massive jaws came at him, scraping across the ceiling as before. D crouched, then leaped forward, jabbing the rapier at the monster's remaining eye. The blade pierced through the pupil, hit the back of the skull with a grinding crunch, and bent, snapping from the force of impact.

Ichor sprayed outwards as D rolled to the side, dragging the broken blade across the junk heap carapace to knock parts of it away.

The monster screamed again, thrashing about. D scrambled, narrowly avoiding getting smashed by the massive head. A heavy breastplate smacked into his hip and sent him tumbling, knocking the broken hilt from his hand. He hit the wall above a destroyed diorama of some ancient mansion in the woods.

As D pushed himself to his feet, hip twinging, the monster threw its weight every which way. It snapped blindly and smashed its tail against the wall and the floor. Pieces of its carapace flew everywhere, deadly implements embedded into every surface. Much of it went sailing over the railing and fell up to the ground floor.

The hall's wall and floor began to crumble. Cracks zig zagged and spread. D limped away as a huge chunk of ceiling fell out, leaving a gap between him and the monster.

He was coming to the end of the line, where he'd first jumped from the glass ceiling to the hallway. There were no doors he could escape through. Behind him, the monster continued to rampage, charging blindly forward.

D threw himself over the railing and onto the ceiling. He rolled across the glass, leaving spiderweb cracks in it.

The monster crashed through the railing behind him, but since its gravity was opposite of his, it fell up towards the ground. A stream of miscellaneous junk sailed after it. It splattered into the ground in a visceral splatter and crunch, blood and gore spraying every which way. Its junk heap splashed into the mess and piled up, spilling outwards.

Wheezing softly, D watched the carnage. Sweat dripped down from his temple. The castle was taxing him more than he expected it would.

Gingerly, he got up and picked his way back over to the ruined hallway. He made his way back up, jumping over the holes in the ceiling.

Near the end of the sword display, he found a couple of longswords laying discarded on the ground. D picked one up, inspected the edge, and decided it would do until he could attend to his own sword properly.

He walked the rest of the way back up to the ground level with the borrowed sword held out at his side.

By the time he reached the ground floor, the pain in his hip had faded. In a couple more minutes, he knew that there wouldn't even be a bruise.

A kind of tiled awning jutted out from the entrance of the atrium, supported by thin metal columns wrapped in flowering vines. D toed the edge of the hallway ceiling, gauging the distance. Then he paced backwards and got a running start. He easily jumped from the hall to the awning. It creaked under his weight but held.

Behind him came a burbling noise.

D turned his head to see the gooey remains of the monster bubbling up. Bits of bone and gore dragged itself back together. Broken artifacts and weaponry got caught in the deluge. The monster lurched up from the ground, forming itself anew out of all the random, broken pieces it could find.

It seemed D wasn't the only one with a miraculous recovery rate.

The entrance of the atrium lay open--the double doors hung crookedly on their rusty hinges. The hallway out there looked like curved glass and metal overlooking overgrown gardens. With little time to wonder if that was where he would land, D hopped through the doorway.

And skidded as he landed on curved glass.

In the atrium, the monster roared. It came lurching out, smashing through the doorway in a spray of viscera and chunks and debris as it scrambled after D's scent, thrashing and snapping wildly.

D fled before it, stumbling along the curved glass and skipping over metal support beams. If it could recover from any attack, he saw no reason to try and fight it.

The hall curved gently to the left to circle around an impressively large garden. D saw many flashes of color out of the corner of his eyes but could not linger to admire the view. The monster was always at his heels, its fetid breath choking and the snap of its teeth narrowly missing him.

The thing bashed against the glass walls, cracking some and breaking others. Metal groaned warningly just before large sections of the hall began to collapse behind the monster. Its magnetic aura yanked metal and glass along in its wake, a dangerous tail of wildly careening sharp edges.

At the far end of the hall lay two double metal doors, smooth and shiny. On the wall next to them was a panel with two white triangle buttons.

D picked up the pace and leapt through the air, temporarily leaving the monster far behind. He slapped his hand against one of the buttons, hard enough to dent the panel. The button lit up and there came a distant chime, then a grinding sound slowly ascending towards him.

D turned on his heel and braced his feet, gripping the borrowed long sword in both hands. He glanced to the right, then left, and saw only glass and metal with plants covering the outsides. Straight ahead of him lay death.

The monster kept coming. It could not see the end of the line. It could smell its prey, though, and snarled eagerly, lowering its head as it made one last charge.

There was nowhere to go and not enough time to wait for the elevator.

D flattened his back against the wall. He angled the sword diagonally before him. With one last breath, he closed his eyes, accepting his fate.

The sheer wall of muscle and sharp edges smashed into him. He was crushed against the wall, ribs and spine and hips snapping instantaneously in one blaze of pain even as his skin was shredded. The sheer power of the monster's charge tore through the wall and they crashed into the elevator shaft, falling.

The monster plummeted up towards the bottom of the shaft, where it broke apart against the cart, snapping the cables. The cart hit the ground first, followed by the monster. The thing's horrible body broke into thousands of pieces again, breaking yet more electrical cables. The spark of electricity arced upwards and caught flame, setting the monster afire before it could regenerate. Its screams and the acrid stink of burning flesh filled the elevator shaft.

Gravity took D's mangled body upwards. His vision went white from the agony of his body yanking itself back together one awful piece at a time. He tumbled over and over, unable to gasp, unable to scream, unable to do anything but _endure_.

D hit the ceiling with another sickening crunch and lay there twitching. His body, determined to live despite the bones sticking out through his neck and rib cage, continued to mend itself.

Electricity shot along the broken cables and jittered off the metal walls. It raced down at D and slammed into him. He arched and gave a full body shudder, going rigid but for the spasm of his fingers skittering along the ceiling and curling like dying spiders. The ends of his hair smoked and his skin darkened as he began to burn.

The blue amulet at his chest flashed once. A huge wave of power blew outwards, crunching through metal and wires. The elevator shaft went dark.

D went limp.

"Geeze, kid, you couldn't've thought of a better way to handle that?" his left hand complained, as it crawled up onto his belly. "This is gonna take forever..."

The left hand shoved a rib bone back inside, then walked its way up to D's right shoulder, where it pushed until the joint slid back into its socket. D shuddered with a choked off gasp, blood running down his chin.

"You're gonna need to eat after this."

The smoke from the ground level drifted down to them. The left hand turned its wrinkled little face towards it and sucked it in.

Coughing, it grumbled. "Well. I guess I'll have to help..." It crawled up to D's neck and flicked its dry tongue out along the dribble of blood. "Too bad I can't get that fire from here."

With only water and air, the countenanced carbuncle could only do so much. It blew gently out over D's wounds, exhaling power into its host to speed up his already insane regenerative powers.

Minutes passed and so too did the pain.

D sat up with his head swimming. Gingerly, he patted himself down to check for anything that might have healed wrong. He found everything whole and as it should be. His clothes weren't so lucky, hanging off of him in bloodied and burnt tatters. He'd lost his borrowed sword in the fall, too. His hat lay crumpled nearby; he pulled it on even though it was hardly worth the effort.

His fingers brushed against the blue amulet at his neck. A crack ran along the top, curving into the center. Blinking, D held it up. It was dull and lifeless, a useless trinket that would never again work.

"Damn, you really have no kind of luck at all, kid. This castle is bad news. We should get out of here."

"Too late now," D muttered.

He let the amulet drop back against his chest, then stood. A few feet above him, he spotted closed doors. D walked over and hauled himself up onto the narrow ledge. He balanced precariously on his toes, leaning heavily against the door as he pried them open.

With one less of the Sacred Ancestor's gifts, he stepped into the unknown.


	6. pulsing to a sound

The floor angled sharply downwards, ending abruptly over a forty feet drop. D twisted his feet to the side to slow his descent, then launched himself from the edge. He soared, his tattered cape flapping behind him like ruined wings, and just barely managed to grab onto the ledge on the far side of the pit. He pulled himself up with a quiet huff.

If the castle had sentience, it no longer tried to disguise its malicious intent.

The ledge he stood on was no more than a four by four square of black and white tiling jutting out from the wall. With a bland wooden door inset in the wall, it resembled an out of place entryway.

D opened the door and stepped through.

Again, the floor angled downwards, at an even sharper angle. It was made of some kind of slick copper metal. D slid down, not even bothering to slow himself this time, and once again launched himself above the pit. Pillars of fire shot up as he soared over it, singeing the edges of his cape.

The ledge was smaller. So was the door. D opened it and ducked through.

There was no floor. D just fell straight down towards the spikes. Briefly closing his eyes as if resigned to his fate, or as if the comic petulance of the situation was too much, D drew his sword. He stabbed it into the wall, slowing his descent with a sudden screech.

The hairline fracture in the blade grew.

D pulled himself up and crouched atop the flat of the blade. Before the sword could snap beneath his weight, he drew two of his largest silver needles and used them as makeshift climbing spurs, hauling himself back up hand over hand.

The castle groaned, a grating stone-on-stone rumble. Immediately to D's right, a ledge slid outwards. He paused, eyeing it, then cautiously climbed onto it. The castle did not yank it away. The doorway was of an ordinary size.

"Done, are we?" D muttered, as he went through it.

On the other side of the door, a short stairwell jutted out over another pit full of metal spikes. It had no railings and went nowhere. Bits of stone floated in the air beyond it, as if they forgot how gravity worked.

D peered up and found the spiked pit mirrored there. Then he looked around, the beginnings of a frown on his face. The walls were nondescript grey stone bricks, all the way around. He could no longer tell if he was on the ceiling or the ground and he saw no other exits.

The door behind him had closed. D walked back to it and opened it to find a new wall of spikes blocking his way. He shut the door again and heard the locks click into place one after the other. Clearly, the castle did not want him backtracking.

Left with no other choice, D climbed the stairwell. Upon reaching the top, chunks of bricks zipped out from the walls and slammed into place, forming new stairs. He continued upwards with the castle providing new steps a few at a time.

In making the stairwell, the castle left holes in its walls that revealed the rooms beyond, rather like looking into an opened doll house. Some of it seemed familiar, like a room full of books, but he also saw new places like a lavish bathroom, a parlor, and even bedrooms with beds large enough for whole families.

The stairwell spiraled upwards. As it neared the spikes, the ceiling split in three sliding parts. D continued to climb, high up into the stormy sky. All around, he could see the castle in all its twisted glory. Beyond that, the endless desert. He did not see the town, nor any of the ruins or the tar pit. An illusionary space, he supposed.

The stairs took him all the way up past the clouds, to where air became thin and cold. The sky became dark and thick with glittering stars. Even for a dhampir, it became difficult to breathe.

And there, sitting atop the clouds as if it belonged, was a magnificent iron wrought gate of a deep cherry wood.

D eyed the distance between the last step and the doorway. He toed at the clouds, fully expecting them to drop him. To his surprise, the clouds were solid. He crossed the distance quickly, lest the castle change its mind.

The doors swung open for him.

He entered a hallway so impossibly long that the end of it was lost in a foggy gloom. His boots squelched against wet red carpet. The walls were lined with moth-eaten velvet drapes, sputtering brass torches, and dirty mirrors that barely showed his silhouette.

As he walked, he slowly became aware that the floor, walls, and ceiling tilted steadily to the right. By the time D reached the end of the hallway, the floor he stood on had become the ceiling. Yet, he remained unaffected by the change of gravity.

A door identical to the one in the clouds opened before him. D stepped through and felt the clinging threads of cobwebs sticking to his face and hair. He swiped the back of his hand at the sensation, lips pursed.

His boot heel clacked against a pale vaulted ceiling. Every inch of the immense, graceful curves were covered in intricate paintings of idyllic garden scenes populated by laughing people and animals. The edges glittered with gold enamel and inset jewels that trailed down the walls and framed stunning stained glass windows.

Massive, elaborate golden chandeliers alight with hundreds of glowing glass orbs lit the whole space up, making it feel light and lively. In his bloody rags, D felt like an intruder.

D's gaze strayed upwards, to the ground floor. There was none. Instead, broken fragments and rubble lay in heaps in a cold, wet pit far above. A mist crept down from the depths.

The devastation continued all the way down to the far end of the ceiling. A chandelier seemed to have fallen and smashed through the floor there, taking with it several columns and an entire section of balcony.

Below the pit, faint ghostly figures twirled endlessly through the air, locked in an eternal dance. D could just make out the shapes of billowing ballgowns, of the sort with more layers than a man knew what to do with, and the flapping tails of expensive suit coats.

The longer he watched them, the more he became convinced he could faintly hear the rising swell of an orchestra. It tugged at something beneath his breastbone, painful and dear.

D picked his way across the ceiling, careful not to step on any of the gems or gold. He found it difficult to step on any of the faces too, as though observing a superstitious ritual akin to not stepping on cracks in the pavement.

One by one, the ghostly dancers slowed to a stop. They all turned their pale faces down towards him and watched with blue lich fire eyes.

On reaching the collapsed section of roof, D began to climb the rubble. Bits of stone slid out from under his boots, but overall the wreckage remained fairly solid. It must have sat for eons.

The ghosts drifted closer and formed a loose ring just out of reach. They continued to watch. D paused to eye them. One by one, the ghosts tilted their heads. One by one, they smiled, wider and wider, showing too many teeth and not enough mirth. Still, they didn't come any closer.

Frowning, D continued on past the ground floor and into the pit. He glanced down and saw the ghosts stayed frozen in their ruined ballroom. They continued to watch him, though, the lich fire in their eyes dancing where they did not.

Above ground level, the climb became a sheer vertical ascent. He pulled his silver needles out and once again used them as climbing spurs. The walls were slimy with moisture and D's feet slipped several times.

It was a slow, exhausting climb, made more difficult by the thick humidity in the air. His lungs felt tight and wet. Outwardly, his expression never changed but for a slight tightness around his eyes.

D pulled himself up onto the top of the wall with a low huff. He took only a second to catch his breath and stow his bent silver needles.

Then he walked on, winding his way between dripping stalactites. The water plinked off a deep, dark lake over head. It reflected nothing back and none of the water dripped down onto D. Mist coiled along the shores, obscuring what lay beyond the water.

He heard nothing but his own footsteps echoing back at him and the occasional plop of water.

The cave gradually narrowed to a tunnel that descended. The stalactites became fewer in number.

D left the lake behind. Just as he turned a corner, he heard loud splashing and the slap of flesh against stone. He kept going instead of looking back. Whatever followed him gave up quickly, apparently unable to stray far from its habitat.

Abruptly, the cave ended in a wide, round room.

At the center of the ceiling lay a circular hole. A ragged rope tied to the broken handle of a bucket dangled up from the hole. D approached it and peered in. Halfway down, raw earth gave away to bricks, and below that, he saw the underside of a slanted roof and the hand crank for the bucket.

D jumped in. He fell for several feet, and just as he spread his limbs to try and slow his descent, he landed with a splash in a shallow puddle. Blinking, he turned in place to take in his sudden change of surroundings.

He stood in the mud in front of a squat, ugly guard house at the base of the largest tower in the castle, situated south of one of the inner courtyards. A light rain drizzled from the gloomy grey sky, pattering off his hat.

D opened the door and found an ordinary, if dusty, room inside. It contained a couple of wooden tables and chairs, a small battered bookcase with well-worn books, a couple shelves with odds and ends like extra arrows or armor polish. Ladders in either corner allowed access to empty lofts. A hallway in the back connected the guardhouse to the tower.

Fully expecting to be teleported elsewhere, D stepped through the door. Nothing happened.

Idly, D wondered if he'd imagined his trek through the seemingly sentient castle. A Noble could well have manipulated his mind and left him roaming through delusions, injuring himself a little at a time.

He ventured over to the shelves but found nothing of use. Everything was caked in a thick layer of dust. The metals were rusted and anything in bottles had long since dried up.

D moved on, entering a round room at the base of the tower.

A pair of dried out skeletons in rusty chainmail sat on stools at a battered wooden table at the center of the room. Playing cards spilled out over the table top and onto the floor. Dented tin mugs and empty bottles lay scattered around.

To the right, a stairwell curved upwards along the wall. Beneath the table, D spotted a trapdoor.

He considered his options for a moment, then roughly shoved the table out of the way. Chairs and bottles and armored skeletons went tumbling across the room. One skull bounced and came to a stop facing D. Its empty sockets seemed to stare through him.

D yanked the trapdoor open, breaking the rotted wood in the process. Dust billowed outwards. Squinting his eyes against it, D peered down into the hole.

It was little more than a four by four dugout, of the sort to stash contraband. Along one side lay a neatly stacked wall of bottles, all of them long soured or dried up. A rotten heap of books hidden under a ratty saddle blanket held no interest for D, but beneath that, he found a long, skinny package wrapped in oilskin.

He pulled it out and snapped the brittle leather bindings holding it shut. Inside lay a longsword, the blade impossibly thin and shining with a white light that hurt D to look at. It made a faint humming noise.

D wrapped the sword back up, tucked it under his arm, and stood. He took one last glance around the room, then headed upstairs.

The second and third floors were empty but for a few stools near the arrow slits in the walls. A couple rotten pieces of leather, wood, and feathers suggested long abandoned weaponry.

On the fourth floor, D found bunk beds with chests at the foot of each. Curiously, the effect of time seemed not to touch the room. Not a speck dust anywhere and the mattresses looked usable.

"Sense anything?" he asked.

"...No. Doesn't mean it isn't a trap."

D nodded but entered the room all the same. His gait was somewhat even with a slight hitch that favored the left.

He set the wrapped longsword on the end of one of the lower bunks. Then he checked each of the chests. They contained heaps of simple clothing and leathers, little of it his size. At the bottom of the last chest, he found a pair of pants and a shirt that would do, though the sleeves of the shirt were a little short.

Stiffly shedding his gear, D revealed a pale body littered with red marks and bruises. The worst of it covered his torso and left hip. His body was still healing; the smaller marks faded even as he changed into the scavenged clothes.

D sat on the bed as he inspected each piece of his armor. The hat was salvageable, but he removed the adornments and tucked them into his pouch for safekeeping. Though the cape looked very ragged at the ends, it would do for a little longer. His boots were in good condition but his gauntlets were not. One of his belts threatened to snap at any moment, so he shifted his pouches and canteen off of it. The breastplate was useless, ripped open from the inside. His scarf was bloodied but could be washed.

His sword sheath looked untouched. D drew the glowing longsword from its oilskin wrappings and slid it into the sheath. It was a slightly loose fit, so he used a bit of leather from the wrapping to tie it more securely.

Inventory taken, D stood and donned what pieces of his gear were still useful.

Then he withdrew his canteen and a blood capsule from his belt. He put the capsule on his tongue and took several gulps of stale, lukewarm water. Without a full glass of water for the capsule to fully activate in, it would take longer for the effects to kick in. D took one last sip of water and stowed his canteen again.

"You oughta rest before moving on," the entity in his hand suggested. "I'm not going to be much use to you for a bit."

"I thought you were worried about traps."

"There's nothing here."

D tucked his chin. His hair, caked with grime and blood, swung forward to hang in his face. His dark eyes, usually so clear, were dull and fogged over.

He sat like that for several long minutes. Then, as jerky as an old automaton, he pulled the sword from his back and swung his legs up onto the bed. He laid flat out with his eyes closed and his hands folded over the sword against his heart.

When next he opened his eyes, the room was dark and unfamiliar. He lay in silky sheets, propped up by too many pillows. D tried to sit up. His numb, tingling limbs would not move.

A fair haired woman sat in an armchair by the window. She wore a heavy wool shawl and an elaborate, layered dress. By the cold moonlight shining through the window, she read a book. Large snowflakes fell slowly down past the frosted window pane.

"Oh, don't get up," the woman said. She closed the book around her forefinger and smiled over at D. Her golden eyes glowed with warmth. "You need your rest."

"Who...?"

"Rest, dear. I'll be here in the morning."

Exhaustion pushed D back under, forcing his eyes closed once more. He heard the woman begin to hum some gentle lullaby. He didn't recognize it. The sound soothed him into dreamless sleep.

He woke much later, cold but well rested. D rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up. Gravity had reversed itself as he slept, putting him on the ceiling above the bunk bed.

The beds no longer looked usable. The mattresses were rotted away to reveal rusty springs and the bed posts had collapsed inwards. Like the lower floors of the tower, the room was covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. It was as if D had slept for thousands of years.

D stood and shouldered his sword. He swept his right hand down his front, snapping his tattered cape with a flourish to shake off cobwebs.

"How long?" he asked.

"No more than a few hours," the countenanced carbuncle said. "The castle moved us again."

Nodding, D crossed the room. Though he was upside down, the stairwell was flipped, allowing him to descend to the top of the tower. He passed many rooms, most of them empty or filled with useless detritus. He spared them all barely a glance, not even slowing.

A few of the upper rooms had collapsed, the cause of which seemed to be a huge, spiked iron ball that had smashed through the tower wall long ago.

Through the hole in the wall, D could see the castle hanging upside down in the sky. The tower was the only thing touching the ground, like a solitary pillar that held the whole tangled mass aloft. As he watched, the castle seemed to squirm, parts of it growing or shrinking or folding in on itself. It made his head hurt to watch.

In the distance, he heard the rumble of thunder. Soon after, the patter of heavy rain. The droplets splashed the edges of the hole, splattering D.

He moved on, picking his way past gaps in the stairwell with one hand braced against the unbroken wall for balance.

The climb seemed endless. On and on it went, down and down again.

Eventually, no light came through the arrow slits. D glanced through one and found only hard packed earth. Further down, he thought he saw something huge and pale wriggling through the dirt. It made his skin crawl, like he saw something he shouldn't.

Finally, he reached a metal trapdoor at the end of the stairs. It looked rusted over and wouldn't budge when he pushed at it. D braced himself and kicked the trapdoor as hard as he could. The door screeched as it flew off its hinges. It bounced and clanged in the room beyond.

D jumped through the hatch. The nauseating pull of gravity reversing spun him in midair, causing his stomach to rise in the back of his throat. He soared up towards the ceiling, then arched back down and landed in a crouch on the floor.

A chilly white mist coiled around his feet. D stood slowly, taking in his surroundings. He was and wasn't at the top of the tower. The space expanded eternally outwards, the walls sliding away from him to vanish into the gloom. Above him, the ceiling did the same.

At the very center of the room sat a gigantic mirror. Its surface was warped, shimmering like oil on water. The ornate copper frame was spotted with blue-green rust but glittered with precious gemstones, mostly rubies.

D approached it cautiously. The clack of his boot heels echoed strangely off the floor, bouncing off the walls back and forth. It sounded like hundreds of people marched in time with him.

The sound cut off abruptly as he came to a stop in front of the mirror.

The surface of the mirror rippled and went still. At his back, the sword vibrated and began to hum. D reached back to grip the hilt and found it warm, like it had been out in the hot sun all day. He drew the sword and held it before him, eyes squinted against the blinding blaze of pale light.

Starting from the top and going clockwise, the gems on the frame began to light up, each of them humming in tune with the sword. When the final gem lit up, the surface of the mirror shimmered twice more.

The sword and gems abruptly fell silent and dark as the mirror started to glow. Its hum became a roar of sound, rumbling through D's bones. His left hand cried something out, lost beneath the noise.

D jumped back, right before the mirror exploded outwards. Glittering shards flew past him, nicking his cloak, hair, and cheeks. The pieces shattered into a million shimmering silver motes behind him.

Within the mirror's frame, something moved.


	7. of the spirit

A solid black form stepped out of the mirror's frame, the clack of its boot heels hard enough to raise sparks off the stone floor. Its red eyes blazed like hellfire as it bared its fangs at D. The shadows fell away to reveal a familiar pale face.

The thing was the spitting image of D, right down to the cracked blue amulet at its breast. The only difference was that it drew its sword with its left hand, exactly like an image reflected by a mirror would.

The mirror image swung its sword in a long, graceful arc. D brought his own weapon up, narrowly blocking. The clash of steel against steel rang out again and again as the mirror image delivered a flurry of blows. D did nothing but block and back away, one step at a time.

This was not the first time he'd fought himself, nor would it be the last.

In the past, he might have thrown himself into the enemy's blade, confident that he would recover. Freshly regenerated from one near death, D knew he wouldn't survive such a reckless strategy.

He bided his time, deflecting every blow. Knowing himself as well as he did, he knew he would get a split second opening, if only he watched for it.

The image drove him far from the mirror frame. They circled around the endless room, whipping the mist up from the sheer force of their blows. Light faded, all but the spark of their weapons and the gleam of their eyes.

The image's sword arced up from the lower right. D deflected it with his sword and threw himself forward, swiping his left hand at the image's throat. Black blood sprayed out, spattering D's face. The image's eyes widened and it hesitated for just a second.

Like D, it possessed insane regenerative capabilities. Almost before his claws left its flesh, it was healing.

D swung his sword up and plunged it into the image's chest. It twisted at the last moment so that his sword went through its side, not its heart. Then it brought its own sword up. D yanked his sword out and leapt away, avoiding a sideswipe.

The image rushed at him, slowed at first, but gaining speed as its wounds sealed up. D met its charge with his own and they once again fell into a series of parried blows, neither able to gain the upper hand. This time, D did not give ground, relentlessly meeting every strike with equal force.

Little by little, he wore the image down. It backed off a step, then another. D kept pushing it until it jumped back.

He lunged after it, stabbing upwards right before it could land. The sword went clean through the image's gut and D jerked it upwards, crunching through bone. He ripped it from the image's shoulder.

The image staggered and reached for its shoulder to pull itself back together. D gave it no chance to recover--he slashed down at its left wrist. Hand and sword went flying in an arc of black blood. D shoved his sword forward, right into the image's chest.

It smiled as it fell backwards. Blood streamed from its lips and the glow in its eyes dimmed. The corpse hit the ground and fell still.

D swept his sword out to the side, flinging blood off the blade, then sheathed it. He exhaled quietly, the only outward sign of how taxing the fight had been.

Then he turned away to study the mirror frame. Aside from the trap door, it was the only thing remotely resembling a door. The castle kept him from backtracking before so he could only assume he was supposed to keep moving forward _somehow_.

Behind him, there came a soft squelching noise.

Drawing his sword, D spun and slashed horizontally in the blink of an eye. The mirror image ducked and darted away in a blur of black. D raced after it, blade flashing out. Somehow, the image always managed to twist away at the last second.

It snatched up its hand, jammed it against the wrist stump, and within seconds all its wounds were gone. Even its clothes mended themselves.

The image kept moving, faster and faster. It circled back around D, dodging a flurry of blows that kicked up gale force winds and made the sword sing through the air, and then slid to grab its own sword.

D threw himself at the image, came down on it with his full might. It brought its sword up, braced its palm against the flat of the blade, and blocked the strike. The force of the impact cracked the floor beneath the image, forming a large crater.

It shoved upwards and D jumped back. In a sinuous motion, the image rolled up onto its feet. In the next second, it flew at D and they exchanged a rapid series of blows again. Each clash of steel blew their hair and capes back and lit up the dark like lightning strikes.

The image kept getting faster.

Or D was slowing down.

Their swords bounced apart and D brought his arm back just a fraction too slow. The image made a fast thrust and the razor sharp edge of its sword sliced along D's ribs, biting into bone. It smirked at him as it jerked its sword outwards, cutting through his right arm.

Before the limb could be severed entirely, D lifted his arm and spun away. His hand went slack, sword clattering, and the arm hung by strips of muscle and tendon. D grabbed at it with his left hand to hold it in place.

The image pressed the attack. D retreated, twisting and turning and dodging and ducking. He could not avoid every stab, every slice. He gained more and more shallow cuts and wounds the longer he was without a weapon. Each of them closed slower than the last. He became drenched in his own blood, dizzy with the loss.

Panting, D waited for his opening.

The image smirked at him and drew back, then lunged forward, both hands braced against the hilt for one powerful thrust. D caught the image's sword between his palms. He twisted the tip sharply to the left, snapping it.

The image kept pressing forward, intent on shoving the broken blade into D's gut. D sidestepped and kicked the image in the side, sending it tumbling. It rolled and came back up on its feet gracefully, but he did not wait for it. Instead, he rocketed off towards where his sword lay discarded. The image was right on his heels.

He dived for his sword and rolled onto his back. A second later, the image was on him, plunging its sword through his left shoulder. D stabbed his own sword upwards, right through the image's jaw and out the top of its skull. Its eyes went dark again as it slumped.

D shoved the thing off with a quiet grunt. He yanked the mirror sword out of his shoulder and saw that even the blade had returned to its original shape, unbroken. 

Then he pushed himself up to his feet. Standing over the corpse with his eyes narrowed, he set the tips of both swords at either sides of its neck. The moment it began to twitch, D yanked the swords in opposite directions, neatly slicing its head off.

He kicked the head away. Watching his own features bounce lifelessly across the floor garnered no reaction other than dispassionate annoyance.

The body at his feet began to spasm. Black ichor spilled out from the neck, hissing and steaming in the cool air. The fingers on the right hand flexed and curled. The hand pushed off from the chest and began to crawl across the floor, dragging the body behind it.

"It won't stay dead." D tipped his head to the side as he watched. "Can you do something?"

"Wind and water won't be enough."

Nodding, D pierced both of the corpse's hands with the sword. He shoved hard enough to embed the blades into stone. The right hand in particular jittered like a bug on a pin.

Then D stomped his foot, hard, cracking the stone floor. Kneeling, he picked up a large piece in both hands. He slammed it down against the floor, cracking it further, then crushed the smaller pieces between his hands, making a pile of sandy grit.

"Will that do?"

"It'll have to," the countenanced carbuncle grumbled. "Your prey's getting away."

D glanced over. The body had ripped its hands from the swords, splitting them from palm to knuckle in the process. The wounds on the right hand closed up first, which allowed it to resume its slow crawl towards its head.

As he held his left hand over the pile of grit to allow the entity within to devour it, D snagged his sword and stabbed the corpse through the ankle. Then he grabbed it by the calf. Its pull was surprisingly strong, forcing D to lean his full weight to keep it still.

After swallowing the grit, the left hand turned upwards to suck down mist-laden air. Then D bit his own tongue and spit the blood into the palm.

Though it took what it was given, the ugly face on his palm wrinkled up. "Classy."

"We don't have time for more."

"You mean you're not in good enough condition to spare more."

D had no answer for that. He laid the left hand against the back of the squirming corpse. A small pulse of power radiated outwards as the countenanced carbuncle analyzed their foe.

"Hm, that's interesting," his hand muttered. "Well, never mind that, let's destroy the head."

Suspicious but unable to do much other than trust the entity, D stood and strode over to the head. He touched his left fingers against the head's forehead, brushing away a lock of hair. The mouth on his palm opened wide and a vortex of gravity pulled at the head, reducing it to a blurred streak that vanished in moments.

The body went still.

"Is that all?" D asked.

"Yeah--ghk!"

Fiery pain lanced up D's arm as the countenanced carbuncle choked. It spat up black ichor in a huge spray that seemed to go on and on, like a fountain. Thousands of tiny arms reached from the growing puddle on the floor and then sank back down in waves. D hunched, clutching at his shoulder, his left hand a taut curl.

When finally the stream ended, D felt something forcibly pulled at his veins and muscles in his arm. The countenanced carbuncle let out a horrible scream.

Then a wad of flesh hit the ground. It pulsed and quivered. The familiar ugly face at its center wheezed, eyes glassy. D dropped to his knees before it, numb to the splash of ichor staining his pants. His head felt strangely empty, a link he hadn't realized was there cut after an eternity of living with it.

With trembling fingers, he reached for the countenanced carbuncle. Something moved out of the corner of his eye.

The corpse lay at the edge of the puddle with its right arm raised straight up. The limb swayed like a snake. On the palm of the hand was a hideous, wrinkled face. The fingers spread and flexed as the toothless mouth opened, a black hole to suck in everything before it.

D scooped up the trembling lump of flesh from the ground and jumped away. The sheer force of suction pulled in all of the ichor and even dragged at him. The second he landed, D jumped back again, fighting against the pull. He touched down next to his sword and yanked it from the stone floor.

The vortex ended. Silence filled the room, all but for D's breathing and the occasional wheeze from the countenanced carbuncle dying in his hand.

Then the corpse's arm fell and the whole body began to shudder. With a disgusting burbling noise, black liquid sprayed from its neck--the very same ichor the hand had just sucked up. The liquid formed a bubble that floated an inch off the ground and slowly began to take on planes and angles.

The corpse lurched up to its feet with a head made of the viscous ichor. The head wobbled with each movement, since it was not solid. As the corpse turned on D, it gnashed pearly white fangs that stood out starkly against the black, jelly-like substance.

Raising its left hand, the corpse made a grasping motion. Its discarded sword faded away, leaving behind only a hole in the floor. The blade reappeared in the corpse's hand.

D switched his grip on his sword and brought it up before him with the blade angled downwards just as the corpse charged at him. With only the slightest shift of his arm, he was able to block the swipes of the corpse's blade, but just barely.

The corpse kept pushing him with wild swings. D backed off, always blocking.

He clutched the countenanced carbuncle against his belly as if he could coax it back into himself--as if he could protect it from the inevitable, as it had done for him for so many thousands of years.

"Sory, kid," the countenanced carbuncle sighed. "At least... he won't know... wh..."

And then it was dead. Just a pile of cold meat that turned into foul-smelling goo and slipped between his fingers.

D grit his teeth and the hilt of his sword. Adrenaline rushed through his body and gave him one last furious burst of energy. He lunged to meet the corpse's next assault and knocked away every slash almost contemptuously.

When it went for a horizontal slice, he jumped over the sword and brought his own down into its jelly-like skull. The blade slowed and stuck there. The corpse made a gurgling noise like laughter as it reached up to grab the blade in its right hand, that horrible little mouth biting into the blade.

Letting go of the sword, D surged forward. His pupils dilated then narrowed to sharp points as the black in his irises leaked out into the whites of his eyes. An awful red glow blazed from his irises and cast eerie shadows on his prey. A howling wind kicked up around the two of them, his aura manifest. The corpse's movements became halting and clumsy.

He caught the corpse's left wrist, soundly stopping its next attack, and twisted it sharply, breaking bones with a satisfying crunch. The mirror sword clanged against the ground, dissolving.

The corpse attempted to flip D's sword and catch it, but he snatched the blade from the air before it could. Swinging the sword downwards, he bisected the corpse from shoulder to groin, then chopped its right hand off and impaled it, all in the blink of an eye. The hand wriggled furiously on the tip of the blade as its body collapsed into a pile of ichor.

"So that was it." D tilted his sword to inspect the hand with narrowed eyes.

With a flick, he flung the hand straight up, and then sliced upwards to rend it in half. The fake countenanced carbuncle on the palm died with a hiss. The remaining pieces of the hand splattered on the ground as gooey ichor, just like the rest of its body.

It did not reform again. Instead, the ichor sizzled and melted away, eating through stone. As the holes in the floor grew, more chunks fell away, crumbling and tumbling down the spiraling staircase and into the lower floors.

D sidestepped and sheathed his sword. Just as he turned away, he saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.

Shadows boiled up from the hole in the tower. It split into hundreds of grasping hands, all reaching for him. Darkness incarnate spread across the remaining floor, the walls, and the ceiling.

Still wrapped in the haze of bloodlust, his fangs lengthened and his eyes blazing with eerie red light, D jumped. The shadows flowed to cover the floor beneath him but could reach up. They could do nothing but wait for him to come back down.

He snapped his cape outwards, tattered edges spread like wings. It did not slow his fall as much as the sheer power radiating out from him did.

D drew the sword with a long, slow hiss. The glow in his eyes grew stronger and lighter until it was almost pure white. It reflected off of the edge of the blade as he held it out before him.

Fire burned through his core, the curse of wielding the light of dawn when he was half darkness himself.

The second he touched down on the floor, toe first, the shadows swarmed up his leg. Before they even reached his knee, he swung the sword. A huge arc of light blasted outwards, searing through the shadows, leaving nothing but smoke in its wake. It scored through the stones beneath the shadows, further damaging the tower. It smashed right through the far wall and broke apart against the earth beyond.

The shadows scattered away. D stalked after them and released another blast of light, this one strong enough to blow his hair and cape back. It curved off to the left and tore apart another chunk of wall.

Relentless, he pursued the shadows until not a scrap of it remained, until the tower crumbled all around him, threatening to collapse outright.

When he stood alone and unscathed in the middle of the wreckage, D finally sheathed his sword. His aura dropped away, the light vanished. The dark that remained was a dull gloom in which nothing moved.

D exhaled.

He strode towards the frame of the mirror without looking back. He had lost things beyond reckoning but there was no time to grieve. Nor would he, for his heart had frosted over long ago.

Eyelids fluttering shut, he stepped through the frame.

When he opened his eyes next, D found himself in a room almost identical to the last, but in a different time. Sunlight streamed in through the windows and through a crack in the roof.

He tilted his face up towards the warm light, as though he'd forgotten what it felt like. In his tattered cape, stained with dried blood and ichor, his hair caked and filthy, D _looked_ like he hadn't seen the sun long enough to forget it.

Sighing through his nose, D tucked his chin and headed for the stairs.

After so many trials, it felt strange to be able to descend the tower with no surprises awaiting him. No monsters lay in wait, no traps. When he passed through doorways, the castle did not yank him anywhere else. The tower and the guardhouse at its base were empty but for long abandoned furniture. So too was the courtyard outside.

D turned in place, taking in the endless expanse of blue, cloudless sky above the castle walls. The castle itself continued to look like an Escher abomination but it did not move.

Wary but unable to do anything but keep moving forward, D turned and set off towards the main keep.

One of the side doors hung on its hinges, swinging slowly in the wind. He ducked inside, glanced quickly left then right, and walked straight on down a tiled hallway, past gently rusting suits of armor and broken windows. His boots left tracks in the thick layer of dust and the sound of his heels was a muffled clack-clack.

The hall turned right at the end and opened up into a kitchen larger than most homes on the frontier. Ovens large enough to fit not one but two horses lined one wall. Impossibly long counters split the space into sections. Someone had ripped the door of the pantry off long ago and the cold storage's trap door was open, too. Hungry scavengers, perhaps.

D drifted through the room like a ghost and did not linger.

The door on the other end let him into a short, windowless hallway with service counters, and beyond that, an impressive dining hall. The solid oak table had elaborately carved legs and looked like it would continue to stand long after humanity ended.

Still, D kept going, through hallways and stairwells, only sometimes pausing to peer into rooms in search of the next door.

He found empty bedrooms, ruined baths, and closets big enough to sleep in. Ancient family portraits stared down at him from walls, their realistically painted eyes seeming to follow him. Statues and suits of armor stood sentinel, unmoving. Some rooms contained ancient machinery, their purposes unfathomable. Others held countless books and charts and curious objects.

For all intents and purposes, it seemed like a normal castle.

D made his way to the entrance hall and stood there under a portrait of a pale, dark haired man, a fair haired woman that seemed oddly familiar, and their small, golden-haired child that shared the same pointy ears as his father. He stared up at the picture with a slight frown.

Somehow, the sight of their smiling faces made something ugly snarl up inside his rib cage. It took him a moment to place it as jealousy.

Face as impassive as ever, D turned away.


	8. and soul

The sunlight streaming through the cracked, dusty windows felt stifling as D drifted beneath the grand staircase in the entrance hall. It made his eyes sting and his head pulse. It could be from a lack of nutrition or sufficient sleep or it could be the early warning symptoms of sunlight syndrome. Whatever the case, he needed to find the Noble of the castle quickly and deal with them.

Frowning faintly, D tensed his shoulders and forced himself to keep walking. Straight on through a short hallway, he found a small door beneath a staircase. The narrow stairs behind the door went down to a collapsed dead end. D shoved aside a few rotten boards and stones but found the entire tunnel was blocked up.

With a short exhale, he backtracked and ventured up the stairs. On the second level, he found yet another hallway. On one side, large windows overlooked one of the courtyards. On the other, two doors opened into an airy room full of toys and an adjacent bedroom, clearly belonging to a child.

D hesitated in the bedroom doorway, swaying. Sunlight spilled in on him from all sides, all too warm. Even with curtains and vines covering the windows in the bedroom, it was too much.

His breathing became faintly wheezy. Squinting through his lashes, he struggled to see while halos of color sparked off every bright surface. Sweat dripped down from his forehead and left tracks in the blood and dirt on his face.

A heavy wardrobe in one corner of the room drew his attention. It seemed like a likely place to take cover until dark. D stepped into the bedroom. He staggered as vertigo washed over him, nausea rising up the back of his throat. Copper and bile coated his tongue and he gagged.

Before he knew it, he was laid out on the floor. He didn't remember falling, yet dust puffed up in clouds around him, then settled. His limbs felt heavy and numb and he could not twitch so much as a finger. D groaned softly, only because no one would hear it.

His eyes slipped shut as he resigned himself to waiting for dark. His prey would likely find him before he recovered. Perhaps that was his fate, to die at the hands of the monsters he'd hunted for his entire miserable existence...

Another failure, after all.

A soft scraping sound came from off to the side. D cracked one eye open a sliver, though it burned to do so. He saw a strange undulating shadow on the floor. Whatever was coming, he hoped it would kill him quickly.

Glass shattered and something heavy hit the floor. The smell of flowers and good, clean earth filled the room, as tantalizing as blood. There came more scraping and thumping, and then a shadow fell over D.

"I finally found you," a voice said. "My lord..."

D squinted up and saw a muddled blur of dark blue, red, and brown. He could not process why it seemed so familiar nor why it should set him at ease.

A hand settled against his forehead, cool to the touch. "You are unwell? Then let me repay your kindness."

Dozens of long, sinuous limbs spread out from the entity and wrapped around D, binding him from shoulder to ankle. They lifted him with great care. He was brought into the entity's shadow, then tucked against a cool body and wrapped further in colorful petals, given temporary relief from the sun.

"I will shelter you, my lord, and hold this castle in its slumber."

D could only make the softest of noises, a whispery little, "Hmn."

They lurched out the window and downwards. The misery of motion sickness became too great for D to keep track of how far they went.

Wherever they ended up, it was shady and the smell of earth was strong. His kind benefactor dug out a deep hole and laid him in it, then began to cover him up. No part of him was left exposed to the sun. If he could have done anything at all, D might have shed a tear of gratitude for the instant relief the cool dirt brought him. Or at least thought about it, in passing. Maybe.

As it was, he passed out as soon as the nausea and pain eased.

Darkness enveloped him. He floated and yet felt the weight of eternity pressing in on him from all sides. Red eyes glowed in the void before him, illuminating a melancholy, pale face so like his own. Then came the pain that burned through his very core. He opened his mouth to scream but only a stream of bubbles came out.

Then he knew only oblivion.

His existence narrowed down to waiting for brief glimpses of the world outside of his (their) cage. It was always followed by that pain, as if to punish him (them) for coveting what he (they) could not have.

There were others that came and went. Pale, cold people looked at him (them) with fascinated disgust. There were other cages where life grew and sickened and died. Dirty, trembling prey furtively cleaned up the remains.

He dreamed-- of the sun creeping across the sky and clouds drifting aimlessly; of the sweet whistling of birds ringing in his ears; of the creak of roots slowly seeping into the soil and into his skin; of the cloying smell of flowers at odds with the choking dust in his lungs; of a mouth full of dirt and a head full of anything but senseless pain.

And he stirred, little by little, becoming aware that he was dreaming yet not.

A woman he never met, that may have never existed, wept softly outside his prison. She wasn't blond and golden eyed and she didn't promise he was safe. She only looked at him with large, dark eyes, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Her mouth downturned and her slightly too long nose wrinkled. She turned her face away, too disgusted to acknowledge him any longer.

A root patted at his cheek, the fraying tendrils tickling. D tried to pull away from it but he had nowhere to go except up. He pushed his way out of his grave.

Blinking at the late afternoon sun, he groggily tried to process where he was and how he'd gotten there. Clumps of dirt slipped from his shoulder and broke apart on the ground by his still-buried hip.

He was in a shady corner of a small inner courtyard of a castle--the castle that had tormented him so. Thick tangles of vines covered every surface, all of it connected to a huge flower bulb sitting between him and the edge of the shade. It took him a moment to place it as the plant creature of before.

Vaguely, D wondered if they had a name. It only seemed polite to know it now that they had proved themself to be benevolent.

D climbed out of his grave fully then patted himself down to sweep most of the dirt off of himself. He was a filthy mess but there was no helping that.

The bulb quivered, then unfurled, revealing its occupant. "You're awake. Do you feel any better?"

"I'm not dead."

The creature laughed hollowly against the back of their hand. "No, I suppose not."

"Why were you looking for me?"

A pair of vines off to the right lifted up from the ground and came towards D. They were wrapped around something long and thin. Gently, the creature set the vines down in front of him and uncurled them to reveal his broken sword. It lay in two pieces.

"I was worried, my lord... This castle is dangerous enough with a weapon." The creature glanced over D's shoulder. "It seems you've found the master's sword, though."

"It's lighter than I'm used to."

Poking the tips of their vines against the hilt of the broken sword to nudge the pieces back together, the creature nodded. "Yes... Tell me, if you would, what brought you to this place?"

"A job."

"You're a hunter, aren't you, my lord? ...Do you mean the master ill will?"

D merely looked at the plant creature. He thought his presence was answer enough.

"What has he done to you?"

"Nothing." D lifted one shoulder in a faint shrug. "I've been hired because his castle is causing problems for the locals. That's all."

"The master's hold weakens. It's waiting for its chance..." The creature sighed. They cradled their chin in their hands and stared wistfully off towards the sky. "It's been so long since the master last woke..."

"How long?"

"What year is it, my lord?"

"I forget. After 12,000AD."

"Then... ten thousand years come and gone without the kindness of my master, how cruel. The world must be in a sorry state indeed."

A chill rushed down D's spine. His stomach knotted with anticipation. Outwardly, neither his posture nor his expression changed.

Softly, he said, "That's not possible."

The creature tilted their head, eyes sharp as they searched D's face. "No?"

"The Sacred Ancestor..." D shook his head. "Nevermind. Tell me how to reach your master's resting place."

"Are you going to kill him?"

"If I must."

"Not with his sword, you won't."

D pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. "If I must," he repeated.

"No." The creature sat up inside their blossom, gesturing with both hands emphatically. "The master's sword answers to the master. It will betray you and fly to him. You'll need something else, if you mean to fight him."

"Then tell me where I can get something."

"Promise me you won't kill him if you don't have to."

"I won't repeat myself a third time." 

Neither moved for a long moment, at an impasse as they stared at one another.

"Give me your name."

D could almost hear the countenanced carbuncle chiding him not to be so careless. He clenched his left hand into a fist. The lack of protest echoed in the empty, dark spot in the back of his mind. He really was alone for the first time in his life. Alone, stripped of powers unimaginable...

His own voice sounded distant and slow to his ears when he said, "You may call me D."

The creature nodded, face downcast. "I am known as Thacea." Then, sighing, they turned away. "Come, then, there's a smithy I can use in the outer courtyard."

Thacea scooped up the broken pieces of D's sword in their vines. With languid rolling motions of their other vines, they hauled themselves across the courtyard, rather like an octopus. The courtyard was filled with flowering plants and bushes, which the creature seemed to try not to trample.

They stopped near one of the keep's doors, which they pushed open with one hand. "Meet me there. You need only cross this hall."

Ever cautious, D asked, "Why don't you?"

"I have gotten rather large." Thacea lifted some of their vines, then let them fall. "Instead of knocking everything over or getting stuck in a doorway, I'll go underground."

D glanced from the creature to the doorway. Finding no fault in the logic, he nodded. He entered the hall, half expecting to find it was a trap.

Nothing happened. The castle did not lurch to life, the plant creature did not reveal a true, murderous nature. The toe of his boot hit a piece of rubble and sent it bouncing, kicking up dust. The noise echoed in the long, empty hall. Nothing came rushing out to attack him. The castle was well and truly dead--or asleep.

Thacea watched through the doorway. Somehow, D found comfort in that. Whatever the thing's ulterior motives might be, they at least continued to abide by honorable rules.

D crossed the hall and shoved open the doors on the far side. As promised, it opened up into another courtyard, much larger than the little garden he'd slept in.

An old cobblestone road ran down the center of the courtyard, its branching paths neatly dividing the space up. Numerous small, weed choked fields suggested the courtyard's primary purpose. A cluster of grain silos and barns and even a chicken coop sheltered against the keep. A long line of stables and a large corral sat in the shade of the western wall. Nestled in the corner, up against the keep and the east wall, was the smithy.

Behind him came a grinding sound. D looked back just in time to see Thacea withdraw into their blossom. Vines coiled up, lifting the bud from the ground, then began to whip around in a spiral, forming a kind of drill. They burrowed down into the earth, leaving behind a disturbed mound of dirt.

So fast that some magic had to be involved, they popped up outside of the smithy. Primly, the plant creature unfurled their petals and swept bits of clinging dirt away.

D crossed the courtyard to join them. With the faintest wrinkle to his nose, he nudged a fallen brick with the toe of his boot. The brick foundry was little more than a heap. Worse still, the anvil was rusted over, the bellows little more than rotted strips of cloth clinging to wires, and the water barrels long rotted away.

"How will you make use of _this_."

"With faith."

"You _are_ fey, then."

Thacea laughed, a soft, throaty noise. "Naturally."

"And yet, silver does not trouble you..."

With a finger to their lips, Thacea gestured towards the smithy. They traced the tips of several vines around the interior of the smithy. The vines explored every surface and pushed their way into broken crates and ruined cupboards and under work tables and benches and in between the cracked stone floor. Soon, the vines spread out over the walls and formed a kind of overlapping framework over the hollowed out remains of the smithy.

"I need only the idea of a smithy." Thacea laid the broken pieces of the sword on the anvil. One of the vines picked up an old hammer from the floor, its handle splintery and its head wobbly. "And a tool."

The flower buds all up and down the vines opened up. The petals began to quiver and the tips of the stamen shimmered with a soft gold light.

With a flourish, Thacea flicked their wrist and a pair of silver coins appeared between their fingers, held between forefinger and middlefinger and ring finger. The coins were thick and slightly dented, worn down with age so that the designs on them were faint and muddled.

"I suggest you cover your nose, my lord, lest my spellcrafting rework your shape, too."

D drew his scarf up over the lower half of his face. To be safe, he took a step back so that he stood out in the sunlit yard.

Thacea took a coin in each hand and struck them together, making sparks. As they did so, they raised the hammer with their vine. On the downswing of the hammer, a shower of pollen burst from each flower. The glow became concentrated orbs, each as bright as stars, and swirled inwards to gather around the head of the hammer. Though Thacea did not physically strike anything, sparks of light flared out at the end of the swing all the same.

Again, they scraped the coins together; again, they raised the hammer, and again they swung it down. The light left a streak of color in its wake each time.

A growing humming sound filled the air. It pulsed in time with the phantom hammer strikes and became a kind of melody, rising and falling. Thacea's voice rose with it, singing in some language D did not recognize. It made him want to drift closer, to surrender to its call.

With forcible effort, he pulled away, backing off another step.

After ten or so strikes, the sparks of light took on a prismatic hue, flashing through each of the colors of the rainbow. The sparks grew larger and larger the longer the spell went on, until they became more like lengthy ribbons that waved gently in the air.

The ribbons of light wound around one another. Some became a soft pink color, overlapping over and over until glowing roses filled the air. Others twisted more loosely and turned green, becoming branches, leaves, and thorns.

The hammer pounded the light down into the sword. The pieces of the blade glowed white hot at the broken edges. With so much light burning his retinas, D could not make out what was happening.

All he knew was that the song became softer, the hammer swings slowing, the clink of coins fading. The lights and singing both dwindled until all that remained were the sunspots on D's visions and the ringing in his ears to suggest it ever happened at all.

Thacea dropped the hammer on the anvil, vanished their coins, and picked up the newly forged sword. They hefted it up into the light and turned it this way and that. Sunlight winked off the silver blade and glimmered off the new adornments.

The sword sported a new cluster of small metal rose buds, dark thorns, and green vines from the crossguard to where the break had been. The vines sank into the very metal of the blade itself, coloring the silver.

"Your sword." Thacea flipped it so that they held the tip towards the earth, then tilted the hilt towards D. "It hasn't forgotten its master."

D accepted the sword and hefted it, getting a feel for the weight. Surprisingly, the added adornments hadn't changed the weapon much. He turned away from the smithy and gave an experimental slice. The force behind the swing made the blade sing and a huge gust of wind blew outwards to flatten the grass before him.

"What's the catch?" he asked.

"It won't awaken until you do."

Frowning, D looked over his shoulder.

"Be safe, my lord, and try always to do the honorable thing."

Thacea withdrew from the smithy and vanished into the earth, leaving D standing alone in the courtyard. His fingers tightened around the hilt of the sword. Perhaps he could hunt them down again and demand more answers. Perhaps it would be a waste of time, perhaps not.

D drew the borrowed sword from his sheath, restoring his own to its customary place at his back. Then he secured the extra sword to his belt, reluctant to leave it behind. Thacea implied the master of the castle held strange power over the weapon. If so, D stood a better chance at preventing its use if it were in his possession.

He glanced up at the sky, at the sun hanging low in the west. There was another hour or two before full dark.

With one last look around the courtyard, D backtracked to the keep. His own footprints in the dust told him where he'd been, making it easier to figure out where to check. He set off down the hall at a brisk walk.

As before, D found many useless rooms. Most of the rooms seemed to be servants' quarters--small spaces with single or bunk beds and little else. Others were large, empty, windowless rooms that might have once served as storage.

He bypassed all of the stairwells going up without a second glance. The hallway took him east, then turned north. It branched off east and west after that. West took him back to the front of the keep. East ran on towards the outer walls and opened up into guard houses and towers and ramparts.

D found a trapdoor at the base of one of the towers. He kicked it open to reveal a long, dark hole and a ladder broken halfway down. Gathering the edges of his cape under one arm to keep it from catching on anything, he jumped down.

He landed in shallow water and soft sand. D held his breath, listening intently for anything that might have heard him. As the echo of his landing faded, he heard nothing else.

By then, his eyes started to adjust to the limited light. He was in some sort of aqueduct made of smooth stone tunnels slick with humidity. The water smelled rank and musty, like swamp water, with a thick film of algae floating on the surface.

D straightened, released his cloak, and drew his sword. He advanced carefully with it held before him, ready to stab anything that moved.

The tunnel went on for a hundred feet or so, then split into two curving paths. As far as D could tell, he was somewhere under the large courtyard. He chose the tunnel going to the left. It should take him closer to the keep.

The water deepened until it came up to his knees. The tunnel never widened, forcing D to wade through the water. It angled gently downwards, which made his footing on the slippery sandy under bottom slightly more treacherous.

After a while, D realized that the tunnel also curved always to the left. It was a downward spiral taking him down into the depths, reeking of sulphur and gradually growing darker and more claustrophobic. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.

Never before had he been so totally alone with his thoughts. Not since his creation, waking and sleeping as he was remade again and again.

The splash of his footsteps echoed queerly off the walls, tricking the mind into thinking more than one pair of boots marched along.

D stopped and spun on his heel, sword up. The sound faded away. His ears quivered as he strained to hear anything but the thunder of his heart and his own harsh panting.

Nothing. He was well and truly alone.

Feeling foolish, D lowered his sword a fraction of an inch. The pad of his thumb brushed over one of the metal rose buds. The overlapping petals made for an interesting texture. He ran his thumb back and forth over it, finding some small comfort.

Little by little, his breathing evened out. His heart continued to beat a tad too quick but he didn't have the time to get it under control.

D resumed his downward descent.

With each step, he circled his thumb around one of the metal rose buds. With each rotation of his thumb, he thought of a name of a previous employer, a friendly acquaintance, or a defeated foe. With each name, he recalled hardships endured.

One way or the other, he survived. He would make it out of these tunnels, too, and walk away with his enemy's blood on his sword.

Resolve steeled, D set his shoulders and his jaw and picked up the pace.


	9. breathing

The tunnel ended in an abrupt drop after what felt like an eternity in darkness. D stood at the very lip with the sharp toes of his boots hanging off the edge. The water rushed past him, spilling into canals in the wide, circular room below. Overhead, weak daylight spilled in through a massive grate, casting everything in a strange, soft light that sparkled off the water's surface.

D could see other tunnel entrances all along the walls. Some were covered in grates, others trickled water in a steady stream, and still others were simply dark, round holes. Any one of them could lead to his goal.

However, his gaze was drawn to an upraised ring of bricks at the center of the room. They looked out of place against the smoothly poured concrete.

A heavy metal lid sat atop the bricks, secured to the floor by a thick chain. At first glance, it seemed like an attempt to keep something _in_ , but once D hopped down and made his way over to have a closer look, he discovered that it was little more than an attempt to keep the lid from being taken. The thing had intricate gold and silver designs beneath a thin layer of rust.

The pretentious display of wealth cemented D's suspicions that he was on the right track.

He sheathed his sword and knelt to get his fingers under the edges of the metal lid. It had to weigh as much as a large horse, but D flipped it up and off to the side as though it were paper.

With the clang of metal still reverberating behind him, D peered down into the well. Daylight from above only revealed a few feet down, then everything gave away to sheer black. He could not see even a hint of the bottom.

Were he not alone, he might have jumped without a second thought and trusted the parasite to pick his pieces up after. The realization that his death would be final was a slow creep of entropy blanketing his thoughts in fog. D frowned over the uncomfortable prickle at the back of his neck. The familiar habit of clenching his left fist helped ground him.

Once the unnecessary feelings eased, he drew one of his bent silver needles and dropped it down the well. D tilted his head as he listened for the distant clatter of it hitting the bottom, which came about a minute later. A very long fall, but one he could survive.

D laid his right hand against the hilt of the borrowed sword and the other against the top of his hat so neither would be lost. Then he jumped into the well.

Darkness swallowed him up. Wind rushed past him, rustling his cape and hair. The rank smell of the aqueducts faded. D counted the seconds and at the last moment, tucked his body and attempted to roll with the fall. He hit the ground shoulder first, felt bones snap in a bright flash pain. Somehow, he managed not to drop the sword.

The ground slanted sharply down, slick with some slimy chemical-smelling substance. D rolled and slid feet first, picking up speed. Below, he saw some sort of ring of faint yellow light rushing up at him. The next thing he knew, the ground ended and he was flying through the air.

All around him, massive gears turned, operating vast and unknowable machinery. Soft, flickering bulbs hung on long wires strung up between support columns. Wooden stairs spiraled ever upwards above it all, their destination lost in the gloom.

D had only a split second to register his surroundings as he plummeted down.

Still holding his hat in his left hand, he mashed it against his shoulder and shoved the joint back into place so that the bone could mend properly. The wound burned and ached, then faded away. His grip on the borrowed sword's hilt tightened.

The further down he fell, the smaller the gears and machinery got. The lights became more sparsely placed, yet were brighter and steadier, the color gradually changing from yellow to white.

Far below, the surface of a deep, black pool with steam coiling above its surface rushed up to meet him. With no way to slow his descent, D had no choice but to brace himself for impact. He drew his limbs tight against his body with the sword angled so it wouldn't hit anything vital if he lost his grip.

Like a knife, he cut through the surface of the water. The shock of impact reverberated through his body; several bones broke on impact, pain lighting his nerves from one end to the other. The thick clouds of bubbles and sheer darkness of the water further disoriented him, making it difficult to know which way was up and which was down. D floundered, sucked in a mouthful of water, and choked.

Panic clawed at his seizing lungs. He was going to die here, at the bottom of some cesspool. It was what he deserved--lost in darkness and forgotten. A failure.

Fury followed, burning down his throat like fire. The Sacred Ancestor still walked the earth. Retribution could not be stopped. Not here, not now. 

D threw his head back and his eyes snapped open, blinding red light spilling from them. All his bones crackled back into their rightful places and pain all but melted away. His mouth opened wide as his fangs lengthened. The sword in his hand vibrated as the blade flashed white hot. The water boiled around him.

He swung the sword and the water parted. For a second, he floated in the air, then started to fall. A moment later, the water crashed back down around him and the tidal surge rocketed him upwards. D shot out of the water.

Landing in a crouch in the shallows, he hunkered forward, coughing and gagging. He spat up mouthfuls of water and bile. Then he slumped over his knees and wheezed while his head spun and his lungs continued to crackle wetly.

He'd lost his hat. His hair hung in wet clumps and clung to his face. He was soaked right to the bone. Even the waterproofed cape sagged heavily against his back, limp and pathetic. When he eventually lurched to his feet and splashed his way out of the pond, he felt water sloshing around in his boots. He was a sorry sight indeed.

If the people of the Frontier could see him, they might not spread nearly so many rumors about his god-like prowess-- and beauty. The thought made him snort with sour amusement. No, knowing his luck, most would take him showing weakness as an invitation of some kind.

D plodded up a small set of wooden steps, which put him on a platform overlooking the pond. He pushed his hair out of his face impatiently, then peered around, looking exactly as tired as he felt.

The platform he stood on was old but well-treated wood, creaking only slightly beneath his boots. The distant, continuous grinding of machinery clanking and whirring came from far above. Otherwise, he heard an almost imperceptible buzz coming from the fluorescent lights set in the metal walls around the pond.

There was only one exit: a large iron gate, through which he could see a short, straight hall ending in just one door. The gate was not locked, though it screeched as he pushed it open. It swung shut behind him.

The door at the other end of the hall _was_ locked. D kicked it in. He stepped through the doorway before the door even finished falling.

The room on the other side was a laboratory of some kind. Blocky silver machines with lights and knobs and switches lined the left and right walls beneath ancient computer monitors, the kind that were flat but two or three inches thick, instead of merely holographs or thin sheets of glass. Metal workstations held delicate chemistry equipment and glass, the contents of which were long dried up. Bookshelves on the far wall sagged under the weight of thick tomes and samples in jars.

The laboratory was advanced compared to the rest of the castle and yet, when compared to the greater wonders of the Nobility, it seemed so primitive and lacking.

The fluorescent lights were off but flicked on as D passed under them. He passed through the lab without looking too closely at any of it.

The far wall was made of metal and thick glass. In the room beyond, a number of glass tubes lined the left and right walls. They contained grotesquely mangled animals, frozen in eternal slumber. Most of them seemed to be domestic, like dogs or cats. Some, D didn't recognize.

Only one thing sat at the center: a coffin, also made of metal and glass. For a moment, D only stood there and stared, numb with the realization that he had finally found his target.

An old security box chirped at him beside the door. Its panel slid open to reveal a round laser scanner and a keypad. He barely spared it a glance as he slammed the hilt of the borrowed sword into the glass. It cracked. He hit it again and again until the cracks spread, connected, and shards of glass tumbled away.

An alarm sounded, warbling and weak. The lights flashed red. Inside the room, the coffin hissed, emitting clouds of cold fog. As D kicked in the rest of the glass and shoved his way into the room, the coffin lid slid aside.

A pale hand, covered in frost, rose from the coffin. It fumbled for the lip of the coffin, then gripped tight. The owner sat up with a quiet groan.

And immediately jerked back.

The blade sang through the air but cut only a small hank of blond hair so pale that it looked silver. D quickly adjusted his grip and swung back, then down.

The sword stopped short of slicing into its master as if hitting an invisible wall. No matter how much force D applied, he could not make it move. He understood, then, what Thacea meant about the sword answering its master.

"How rude," the vampire croaked in a breathy, hoarse voice. "My own sword? Really."

D released the sword and jumped back to draw his own.

As he did so, the vampire floated up from the coffin. They boasted the unnatural beauty of Nobility and their gender was difficult to guess. They were slim and pale, shorter than D, dressed in black pants and boots and a loose silk shirt, once white but now beige. 

Their sword spun through the air and they snatched it with a lazy flourish. "Normally, I'd ask why I've been woken..."

D rushed in. He made a short swipe to the left. The vampire expertly blocked and turned the blade away.

"...but I suppose it's obvious."

With the occasional blatting of the alarm and flash of the lights as their backdrop, they exchanged a series of lightning fast blows. The fight was almost like a dance as they circled around the room. Every hit set off blasts of wind or cracked the floors, the walls, the ceiling.

The vampire picked up speed the longer they were awake. D soon found himself struggling to keep up. They backed him into a corner. He held his sword at an angle to keep theirs away from his neck.

"Don't suppose I can talk you out of this," the vampire said, as they bore down on him.

"...No."

"Not even if I pointed out that you have no idea what the consequences will be?"

"No."

"A pity."

The vampire let go of their sword--it kept pushing, wielded by some invisible force--and slammed their fist into D's side, snapping ribs. He didn't flinch, not until the second hit smashed the ribs into his lungs. Then he choked, spitting up blood, and his strength faltered. The floating sword cut into his shoulder.

Gritting his teeth, D gripped his sword tighter and threw all his strength behind an upward shove. The enemy's sword was forced back, inch by inch.

The vampire did not say any of the predictable cheesy things as, _"Impossible!"_ as Nobles usually did when the fight turned unexpectedly.

They merely tilted their head, hair sliding forward to cover one half of their pale face. The fight almost seemed to bore them, for their narrowed golden gaze drifted up and off to the side.

The castle rumbled all around them.

D's aura blasted outwards and he flung off the floating sword. His own weapon took on a silver-white glow. He lunged forward and plunged his blade into the vampire's chest. At the very last second, they twisted to the side so that the strike missed the heart.

They grabbed at the base of the blade, grimacing around a mouthful of blood. "Idiot, if I die--"

A quake rocked the room, staggering them both.

The vampire seized the opportunity to wrench D's sword out of his hands. They jumped back, holding the sword in. Perhaps they sensed something was wrong, that they wouldn't heal instantly if they pulled it out.

D took a step forward. His own wounds were healing as normal, each breath easier than the last. "This place is collapsing. Is that it?"

"If only... it were so simple." The corner of the vampire's mouth twitched. "It must sense a more suitable master... somewhere." They raised their free hand and their sword flew to it. "Which means... after I deal with you, the hunt is on." Sighing, they gestured with their sword. "Again."

The castle trembled once more.

The walls began to crumble and glass fractured. A huge chunk of the ceiling broke open as a piece of the metal rafters crashed through, smashing the coffin to pieces. The thick cabling connected to the coffin snapped and sprayed sparks.

Taking advantage of the chaos, D rushed in. He made a desperate grab for his sword. The vampire knocked his hand away with their arm, then kicked off from the ground and flew backwards. All the while, they kept one hand on D's sword to prevent it from moving.

The shaking intensified. D braced his feet apart to keep from falling. His enemy had the upper hand, floating a few inches off the ground.

They drew their arm back, then hurled their sword.

It shot at D in a straight, silver blur, faster than a bullet. He sidestepped just as the castle lurched, further throwing him to one side. The sword spun in the air and shot back at him. He dropped out of the way, then snatched it by the hilt.

Whatever power allowed it to fly yanked D along. His weight did not slow it at all. The vampire's eyes widened a fraction as they jerked their hand to stop the sword midair. D released the hilt--momentum carried him forward and he slammed both of his feet into the vampire's gut.

As they coughed, spraying his face with bloody spittle, D seized the hilt of his sword and wrenched it free. A second later, they both hit the ground.

"You--"

The castle walls split apart, hot, searing sunlight spilling in. The crack spread, tearing through ceiling.

D didn't wait for the devastation to finish. He swung his sword downward. His prey wiggled to avoid another killing blow. This time, they stabbed their blade through the tangle of metal vines and thorns at the crossguard, gripped their weapon at both ends, and fought every attempt to pull the sword from their chest. Blood spilled out from both wounds and their hands. It trickled from between their grit teeth, dribbling down their chin.

The ground split apart beneath them, widening into a huge, yawning chasm that they both tumbled into, fighting the whole way down.

Just before they hit the ground, the vampire bared their fangs and hissed, "Damn it."

Their form whirled and became like smoke, then shrank. D and the swords fell through it; instinctively, he grabbed the hilts of both.

Wings snapped outwards as the vampire's form solidified. No longer resembling anything human, they struggled upwards in jerky motions. A moment later, their sword shot after them with D hanging on.

They soared up out of the chasm and out over the desert, circling. Below, the castle seemed to melt away, all its shattered pieces fading into the sands as if it had never existed at all.

The winged creature took a nosedive and hit the sand, spraying sand and smoke everywhere. At the same time, their power over the sword ceased and it plummeted from the sky. D let go at just the right time so that he could land in a crouch over his prey, the blade of his sword against their neck. Their own sword plunged into the sand right by their head.

Silvery blond hair and pale limbs spread out over the sand. Crimson stained everything. Golden eyes, fogged with pain, peered up at D. "...Well?"

"Why aren't you burning?"

The vampire glanced up at the sky, as if surprised by the presence of the sun. "Half-blood."

"What is your name?"

"What does it... matter, now?"

"Your name," D repeated.

"...Adrian." The vampire's lashes fluttered closed as they wheezed. "Adrian Tepes. They called me... Alucard."

The name did not ring a bell. The dhampir did not belong to any of the esteemed Noble families, then. It was rare, but some vampires didn't call themselves royalty and lord over humankind. Didn't make them any better but...

For once in his long, bloody life, he wanted to do something other than kill. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, then loosened. He straightened and swung it behind himself, sheathing it.

"Thacea asked me to spare you, if I could."

Silence, for a while. Adrian pressed their hands over their wounds, a feeble attempt to staunch the sluggish flow of blood. Then, they murmured, "You met Thacea? Explains the sword..."

"Have you ever harmed any innocent person?"

"Not... willingly."

D tucked his chin, frowning over that. The sun burned against his back and made it hard to think. Without his hat, he struggled to see clearly. The beginnings of a headache lurked behind his eyes as a growing knot of tension.

"You don't look too good," the other dhampir said.

"Where did your castle go?"

"To Dr-... the strongest."

"The strongest," D echoed. "If I let you live, what will you do about it?"

That garnered a dismissive snort. "Hunt them down and take it back, of course."

"You'll hunt the Sacred Ancestor."

"What a pretentious name."

It was D's turn to snort, soft and incredulous.

"But yes, I will kill this ancestor." Adrian scooped a handful of sand up and let it fall between their fingers. Some of the grains stuck to the blood on their hand. "That castle... its power can't fall in the wrong hands ever again."

"The Sacred Ancestor's death is my task."

D stepped away, leaving Adrian lying in the sand, and raised his hand to shelter his eyes. His little pony stood a little ways away, sheltered at the bottom of the dune, apparently unbothered by the castle's sudden disappearance.

"You're not even going to help me up after all that stabbing?"

D glanced over without turning his head. "You'll live."

"Not out here, in this sun, without blood, I won't." Adrian laid their hands over their chest again, gingerly feeling out the wounds. "Damn, what did you do to me."

"It will fade."

With that, D set off to collect his pony. If a bloodsucker he spared went berserk due to a lack of blood, it would be his responsibility. He couldn't just leave Adrian there to rot and hope for the best.

The pony blinked sluggishly at him, ears flicking. It made no protest when he grabbed its reins and led it back up the dune.

Adrian hadn't moved much except to sit up. That they remained lucid and talkative suggested their wounds were already on the mend. They tilted their head back to squint at D and the pony. "That's yours? A little small, isn't it?"

"It does the job."

"Its legs..." Adrian glanced down at the pony's mechanical limbs. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing."

Blinking, Adrian's brow furrowed. Then their expression smoothed out to serene blankness. "...I suppose I can't look a gift horse in the mouth."

D held his hand out. As soon as Adrian took it, he hauled them up in one yank, heedless of their injuries. They hissed and glared at him, hunched against the side of the pony with one arm against their middle as they wheezed.

He ignored it, gazing towards the town. "My job was to hunt you. There will be questions."

"Why... did they want me dead?"

"A Noble's castle appeared." D pulled Adrian's sword from the sand and stuck it through his belt. "We don't have time to play twenty questions."

"Excuse me if I'm not up to date on current events," Adrian muttered. "I don't even know your name."

"D."

"The name or the letter."

"Both."

Adrian gave a soft, wheezy little huff. "Alright, _D_. Since you're carrying my sword already, you might as well carry me, too."

"What."

In a whirl of smoke, the other dhampir changed and shrank. The pony tossed its head and sidled away from the little furry lump in the sand. Fragile wings flapped but Adrian clearly didn't have the strength to take flight.

It would be easy enough to hide a bat, though, D had to give them that. Sighing, he bent to scoop Adrian up. The realization that he had nowhere to put them gave him pause. There'd be a _lot_ of questions if he rode into town carrying a bat.

Adrian jumped from his hand, wings fluttering, and smacked into the scarf around his neck. D went tense, breath frozen in his lungs, as he felt the little creature burrow in under the striped wool and settle against his neck. Protests bubbled up hot and panicky in the back of his throat. No sharp little teeth nicked him. He felt only the slight scrape of claws as Adrian got settled, then warm, leathery wings tucked into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

With great effort, D throttled his emotions. His expression cleared and his thoughts became quiet.

D mounted the pony and rode back to town. He may not have killed any Noble but he had removed the castle. The job was done. It was time to collect his reward and move on.


	10. living through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: brief suicidal ideation near the end of this chapter.

As he neared the edge of town, a familiar resigned exhaustion clouded D's thoughts. Soon, he would have to deal with prying questions and stares from humans who neither cared about him nor wanted him to stick around. He usually went straight to collect his reward and left town immediately. Then again, he didn't often come back in rags, smuggling a bloodsucker in his scarf.

Outwardly, D kept his posture rigid and upright and his face as blank as ever. It would not do to show any kind of weakness.

Before someone at the front gate could get a close look at him, he pulled at the pony's reins to point it towards Ruby's farm. He kicked its flanks, spurring it into a gallop. The deputies on duty shouted but did not come after him.

D guided the pony off the roads to avoid running into anyone else. He skirted the edges of properties, always weaving back into the underbrush whenever he saw someone in the distance.

Only the boy was out in the yard when D reached the farm. He sat in the shade of the house, surrounded by small tin soldiers and animals, and apparently in the middle of digging elaborate underground tunnels with a garden trowel. On seeing D, he froze.

Wordless, D slid from the pony's saddle and walked it over to tie it to a fence post near the house. He unstrapped his saddlebags, draped them over his shoulders, and walked around to the back of the house. The very moment he was out of the boy's sight, he heard the bang of the front door.

Sighing, D went down into the cellar. He dropped his saddlebags at the foot of the cot. Then he stood there with his head tilted back, listening to the creak and thump of footsteps overhead.

Adrian stirred against his neck. Their small furry head poked out from beneath the scarf, nose twitching.

"Stay hidden."

With a high pitched chirp of protest, Adrian disappeared back into the scarf. A minute or two later, the cellar doors opened and Ruby came clattering down the stairs.

"You're back," she said, standing there at the foot of the stairs with the sunlight at her back.

"I am."

"The castle's gone, too. So you did it."

D inclined his head.

"You don't look so good, our Jasper said." Ruby folded her arms. "Do you need anything?"

"Water."

"For a bath or for a drink?"

"Both, if it is no trouble."

Scoffing with incredulous amusement, Ruby shook her head. "After what you did? None at all." She turned and set her hand against the railing, her foot on the first step. "We'll leave the tub and fixin's behind the house."

"Thank you."

"Sure."

Then she was gone.

D exhaled, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. He let his head fall forward and his hair swung into his face. Until the clatter of humans bustling around faded and Ruby called his name, he stayed like that.

Then he trudged up out of the cellar. He found a large copper tub sitting beside the door with a bucket containing a threadbare towel, a matching washcloth, and a thin bar of soap. Beside the bucket were two bottles of clear, clean water and a tin cup.

D carried everything down into the cellar, then took the bucket to go in search of a water faucet. He found it on the side of the house. To his surprise, there was a hot _and_ a cold faucet, set above a block of cement with grates for drainage. He wondered again at the town's apparent wealth as he set the bucket beneath the faucet and turned the knob, watching steam cloud up from the spray.

It took him a tedious, exhausting number of trips to fill the tub but he preferred that to the potential of being gawked at for filling the tub all at once.

D shed his belt and pouches, the swords, cape, amulet, and scarf with its living occupant, piling it all on the cot. His bat-shaped passenger chirped but stayed hidden under the folds of scarf and cape.

Unfortunately, the tub was not big enough for D _and_ his hair. The little sliver of soap wouldn't be enough, either.

Sighing through his teeth, D trudged back up to the faucet one more time. He made a cursory check to ensure no one was watching, then knelt in front of the faucet, turned it on full blast, and stuck his head under the spray.

Steam clouded up around him. His skin tingled and lightly burned and healed again and again. The water ran in rivulets down his face and neck, soaking his shirt.

It was a flagrant waste of water but he stayed there until the pounding of water against his skull drummed away his thoughts and left him feeling hollowed out. By that point, he'd used up all of the hot water.

He snapped the faucet off and sat up.

The younger woman peeked at him from around the corner near the front of the house. "...Are you alright?"

D looked at her for a long minute. Amber, he recalled suddenly. Ruby said that her name was Amber.

She squirmed, ducking her head. Her mouth twisted, face dark, but the wrinkle of her brow did not suggest the usual sort of fluttering shyness. "I mean, that was... all the hot water! But nevermind, it'll, it'll heat up quick... Probably. If you need more."

"Sorry."

Amber's mouth opened then closed. She didn't seem to know what to do with the apology.

Before she could figure it out, D rolled to his feet and walked off. He had a cooling tub awaiting him down in the cellar. Adrian too, sitting there on the cot with their legs crossed and nose wrinkled.

"Ah, good. I'm not saddled with another stinking fool that doesn't know what a bath is. Are we back to hand-drawn, now?"

D hesitated at the foot of the stairs with the faintest twitch of his fingers. He glanced between the tub and his guest, abruptly aware that he'd have to expose himself if he wanted to get clean. "...Seems so."

"Surely you could have filled it in one go and carried it down here..."

"Sometimes, I prefer not disturbing my hosts."

"Ah." Adrian tilted their head with a soft snort. "At least the prejudices of humans hasn't changed..."

D said nothing.

Flicking slender fingers, Adrian smirked. Their golden eyes pierced the gloom, glowing like the sun. "Well, don't let me keep you. We are, after all, on such friendly terms, what's a bath or two?"

"Do you mind."

"Oh, of course, excuse me. Let me just go sit outside. I'm sure no one will wonder where I came from."

D closed his eyes and took a breath.

On the exhale, he reopened his eyes to find Adrian moving everything off the cot and onto the floor to make room for themself. Everything but their own sword, which they cradled loosely against their front. They stretched out with a sigh, then rolled onto their side, presenting their back.

As far as privacy went, it would have to do.

D stripped down, exposing a body that should have been littered with scars but wasn't. Not even the most gruesome of injuries he had taken in the last couple days had left any mark. No bruises, no scratches, nothing. He was as pristine as the day he first stepped out into the sun.

Averting his gaze from his own body, D stepped into the tub and knelt to scrub at himself with the soap and washcloth, as quick as he could. When he finished, he dropped both into the bucket.

Then he slouched down into the tub, legs folded up awkwardly. It really was too small for him. Gingerly, he rearranged his limbs until he ended up with his legs and arms draped over the edge. Not the most comfortable position but the water was still warm enough to soothe some of the bone deep ache.

"Do we have _time to play twenty questions_ now?" Adrian asked.

D rolled his head to the side, pillowing his cheek against his shoulder. It surprised him to find that Adrian still faced away. Most people would have taken any opportunity to peek.

"Ask."

"Do you know how long I've been asleep? What year is it?"

"After 12,000AD. I stopped counting. Thacea said ten thousand years..."

"That long...?"

Adrian curled in on themself and fell silent. The weight of ten thousand years of slumber couldn't have been easy to deal with.

Though he could have stayed silent, D's curiosity needled at him. "How is that possible?"

"What?"

"The first vampire--the Sacred Ancestor... has only existed for eight."

Scoffing, Adrian flapped a hand over their shoulder. "No, I assure you, our kind has always existed."

"How, humans did not begin to mutate until nuclear holocaust."

"So it did come to that, after all..." Adrian sighed. "The legend goes that when god--or one of the gods, whichever you prefer--created mankind, his shadow became jealous of his light and life and found a way to drain it, to claim it for itself. That was the first vampire, who became known as Dracula."

"Really."

"Try not to get carried away with your enthusiasm."

"Hn."

"Tell me this Sacred Ancestor's origin story, then."

D sank up to his chin in the water. He watched soap suds bob listlessly on the surface and get caught in floating strands of his hair. "A being of pure darkness appeared one day and from him came all of the society and technological wonders of the Nobles."

"Is that all."

"More or less."

"You're terrible at storytelling."

"An unnecessary skill for a hunter," D muttered.

"Hmm, I've heard that one before." Adrian shifted around, shoving their arm under their head. "Are you decent yet? I might like to get out of these fetching bloodstains."

"I've used all the hot water."

"Cruel."

Pushing himself up, D clambered out of the tub. He bent over it to wring his hair out, then snagged the towel to dry off as best he could. It was such a ragged thing that he still felt damp after.

He pulled his underwear on, the only thing not littered with holes and stains. The shirt was beyond salvaging. The pants had a few nicks but could be washed and patched. D dunked them into the water, vigorously rubbing the legs together until the worst of the stains faded. After wringing them out, he draped them over the edge of the tub to dry.

D padded over and knelt to pick up his cloak. Frowning, he picked at the frayed edges. "Give me your shirt."

Jolting up onto one elbow, Adrian started to turn their head. They caught themself and faced the wall again. "Excuse me?"

"I'll need something less ragged, if I'm to get supplies."

"Somehow, I doubt you'll be getting these stains out."

"Better than rags."

"Fine, but I want a new one. And a coat." Adrian sat up on their knees, their sword across their lap. "...And a sheath. Damn. The castle took everything. My dog, my forgemaster, my books..."

"...You're very materialistic."

"I am _not_. It's a matter of practicality."

"The shirt."

Yanking it up over their head, Adrian wadded the shirt up and chucked it over their shoulder. D caught it and held it up. The hole in the back could be hidden by his cloak. No helping the ones in the front, unless he wanted to spend time looking for a needle and thread and patch them before he went anywhere.

He carried his cape, scarf, and the shirt over to the tub and gave them a quick scrub. After wringing them, he found nails in the wall to hang them from.

"Wait a little while and I'll get you fresh water."

"...Fine. Do I have to stare at the wall the whole time?"

As much as he would prefer that, D knew it bordered on unfairness. He pulled one of the other cots from the wall, then stripped the mattress. Shaking the musty blanket out, he wrapped it around himself. The material was scratchy and couldn't cover everything but it was better than nothing. He sat on the edge of the cot with his chin tucked.

"I don't care," he made himself say.

Immediately, Adrian twisted around and swung their feet off their cot. An ugly, dark scar spread across their chest from the left shoulder across to their right, just above the hip bone. It was the kind that would have damaged chest and stomach muscles and a thin horizontal scar that ran from under one armpit to the other suggested reconstruction.

Adrian eyed D up and down with their mouth a thin line and brows furrowed. "Hm." Glancing away, they surveyed the room. "What comes after?"

"After what."

"Bath time and supplies. Do you intend to feed me?"

"There's water."

"We can't survive off water."

"There's plasma capsules in one of my pouches."

Adrian leaned forward, gripping the edges of the cot. The sword should have slipped from their lap but seemed to ignore gravity. "They make pills for that now?"

Instead of answering, D stood. He adjusted his grip on the blanket, ensuring it wouldn't reveal anything, and then went over to pick his belt up. The golden eyes watching him made his skin crawl. It felt like having each layer peeled back, all his flaws exposed alongside muscle and sinew and bone and blood vessels.

D fished two plasma capsules from his pouch. Holding them between forefinger, middle finger, and ring finger, he lifted them so that Adrian could see. He dropped his belt on the floor unceremoniously.

"How does it work, do you just knock them back with water?"

"Better to dissolve them, then drink." D palmed one of the capsules and offered the other to Adrian. "The cup and water are over there."

After accepting the capsule, Adrian rolled it back and forth in their hand. "This could be poison."

The absurdity of the statement was too much to be borne.

D closed his eyes and his fist and made himself breathe. Then he crossed the cellar and went through the motions of pouring out water, plunking the capsule in, sloshing the contents until it dissolved, and then gulping it down in one go.

When he finished, D walked back to set the cup and water bottle at the end of Adrian's cot with a pointed look.

"Such dramatics," Adrian murmured.

Rather than acknowledge the jab, D laid down on his cot with his back to Adrian. He heard the creak of the other cot, the plink of the capsule dropping into the cup, and the slosh of water pouring.

"Hm. Not bad. A little flat. Do you know how they make these?"

"I don't."

Adrian sighed. "I'm beginning to suspect you are not going to be a very helpful guide during this hunt."

"They work and that's all that's relevant."

"I see." The cot creaked again, then the cup clanked against the floor. "And how shall I get more? Will I be at the mercy of your generosity until the end of days?"

When D didn't answer, there came a whump of a body hitting the mattress and more creaking, that ominous sound of metal straining.

"I don't imagine society is the same after my long sleep, but do they still have libraries? Books?"

"...None with the answers you seek."

"No? Where do I find them, then?"

"You don't."

"Really."

"You've been awake for a few hours. Why do you need all the answers now?"

"I dislike being in the dark."

D turned his head to peer over his shoulder. Adrian met his gaze steadily. They lay on their back with their hands folded under their head, one leg crossed over the other at the knee with their foot bobbing. Above them, the sword floated, rotating slowly.

"At least tell me more about the Sacred Ancestor," they said. "Why did you say it was your task?"

"Because it is."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"How long have you been after them?"

"Longer than you know."

Adrian bobbed their foot, which made the sword bounce in the air. "Without the castle, they can't be that strong..."

Sour annoyance crept up the back of D's throat. To him, the castle meant less than nothing; it was a curiosity unrelated to the Sacred Ancestor's unfathomable power. A curiosity that got the better of him in every way, reminding him of his inadequacy.

Anything he might have said to Adrian got jumbled up and caught against the backs of fangs beginning to lengthen against his will.

He rolled off his cot and strode away to collect still damp clothes. Keeping his back to Adrian, he dressed and stomped into his boots. Anger made it possible to ignore the shame of being looked at. It would catch up with him later.

Then he grabbed the tub and hauled it up the stairs to go dump it out at the grate. It was tempting to fill the tub with cold water. He resisted the urge with some effort.

As lukewarm water streamed into the tub, D crouched beside it. Adrian's shirt was too small, the sleeves too short and the shoulders not broad enough. It rode up D's back, exposing him to the chill air. After yanking it back down, he dangled his arms over the edge of the tub and trailed his fingers in the rising water. The wall before him became a blur as his gaze unfocused and steam rose around him.

It wasn't like him to give into wild swings of mood.

His shoulders slumped heavily. He lifted his left hand, water dripping down his wrist, and stared at the blank palm. No face rose up through the skin to mock him. The skin even lacked lifelines and wrinkles, as if history had been burned away.

Gingerly, he touched at his face. Even with despair and anger grappling round and round in his heart, he found no telltale wrinkles of expression. He was as blank as his palm.

And as empty as his head. That gnawing ache of something that should have been there spread like atrophy over his thoughts. His bond with the countenanced carbuncle had been a constant that kept some of the cold loneliness at bay.

It had also always pointed him to where he needed to go next. The parasite had been a compass fixed on the Sacred Ancestor.

Without that, he was less than nothing.

D turned the faucet off and stood with his hands hanging limp at his sides. He indulged in the all-consuming misery for a moment or two longer.

It was a black cloud that came with an intense urge to walk into the nearest tree branch. Or one of the fence posts around the farm. The stakes on the edge of town would probably work.

No, he reasoned, he would have to use his own sword, touched by the light. Otherwise, he would probably survive it.

The sound of the front door banging drew him away from the idle fantasies. D picked the tub up and retreated back to the cellar before he could get caught wasting yet more water.

He set it down in the same place as before with more force than strictly necessary. Water sloshed over the sides.

"Touch a nerve, did I?" Adrian asked.

D picked up his blanket, shook it out, and went to his cot. "We'll discuss strategy later."

"...Fine."

While Adrian went to take their bath, D kicked his boots off and pulled the damp clothes off to hang them again. Then he collected his sword and laid down with it against his belly. Oppressive, sulky silence filled the room but for the occasional slosh of water. D tugged his blanket up over his ears and closed his eyes.

Within moments, he was asleep.


	11. the cables

He walked through a barren orchard in the middle of winter. Old, dirty snow clustered at the base of each tree in clumps. Soggy leaves squelched under his boots. The moon was a bright, silver coin in a night sky as deep and blue as the sea. Beside him, his companion walked with her hood up to shelter her from the sunlight reflected by the moon.

Together, they reached the far end of the orchard and stood at the edge of a road. On the other side of a ditch lay a field as barren and empty as the orchard. Water burbled as it rushed along the ditch beneath a thin layer of ice.

"Do you remember what you talked about, that day?" she asked.

He knew it to be a memory, but tilted and changed by time: the colors softer, the words gentler, the company stranger.

Still, he turned towards her. Still, he let her take his hand and cradle it between both of hers, fine bird-bone fingers wrapping around him as if to ground him. Still, he was glad to know she was safe and happy.

Gold hair spilled out from beneath the hood in ringlets. Gold eyes gleamed in the shadows, above a gentle smile.

"What lay beyond the stars."

"What was it?"

"Nothing." D lowered his gaze, ashamed. Fire licked up his spine and over his cheeks. The embers flickered and melted away his pale skin like wax. "We have nothing but this."

"And you are failing us, is that it?"

"I am. My task..."

"D," a hoarse voice hissed near his ear. "Something is here."

He opened his eyes to total dark but for the gleam of golden eyes above him. For a second, he thought he was still dreaming and that strange woman smiled down at him. Then he blinked.

D gripped the sheath of his sword in his left hand and slid from the cot. Adrian backed off, heading for the cellar door.

As D hurriedly donned his pants and boots, there came a low rumble deep in the earth. It was less a quake and more a vibration that set D's teeth on edge. He looked askance to the other dhampir but Adrian only shook their head.

It pained him to abandon the rest of his clothes, to follow Adrian up out of the cellar with his upper half exposed, but there wasn't enough time to spare for frivolity.

It was full dark out, cold and glittering with stars between thick cloud cover. No sign of the moon. Hundreds of imps swarmed overhead, their chatter and cackles continuous.

In the distance, the low whine of a siren started to rise. Spotlights kicked on, lighting up the sky at the heart of the town. The lights spread all through the night until it was dotted with orange and yellow glows.

Behind them, the farmhouse lights flicked on. Ahead of them, the spotlights ringing the perimeter came on, one by one. The front door slammed open and Ruby came rushing out with her rifle and her grandson right behind her with a gun of his own.

Something huge and lumbering lurched up from the desert. As it came nearer to the farm's perimeter, D could make out clumps of sand pouring from its lumpy shape. Dangling wires and rusted bits of metal stuck out seemingly at random.

It pushed through the outer fences. Electricity sparked and the whole fence went dead with one last buzz. The monster kept coming, stomping its way through the rest of the fences and up the terraced fields.

Adrian's sword whistled through the air as it flew up from the cellar. The sword spun, lights flashing off the silver blade, then Adrian snatched it by the hilt. D drew his own sword and tossed the sheath to the side.

The two dhampirs exchanged a glance.

To the whir of laser rifles winding up, D rushed downhill to meet their monstrous foe. He angled his body down and zigged past fences and fields, holding his sword behind him.

Adrian blurred along next to him, their eyes bleeding to red that left streaks in their wake. They outsped him and slammed into the monster first, blade screaming off metal along the right side of the torso.

D hit it on the other side, tearing his sword up through a shoulder made of soft earth over bones of metal and rust. Sand sprayed out in an upward arc.

The thing let out a rumbling sort of roar as it swung its massive arms one way and then the other, always too slow to land a hit. Adrian ducked and circled around to jab at its back while D harried it from the left.

Overhead, piercing pink beams of light streaked out from the farmhouse. The lasers sizzled as they scored through the monster's head, turning sand to glass on the way. Ruby and her grandson knelt atop crates with the spotlights at their backs, providing cover fire even with their night vision limited.

The monster, now littered with holes, shuddered and went still. D skidded to a stop with his sword held at a downward angle. Adrian crouched across from him, one hand flat against the ground and the other held out behind them. Their sword hovered above their shoulder.

"Is that it?" they asked.

One last laser beam shrieked through the air. It sank into the monster's chest but did not come out on the other end. Sand sizzled and melted. Bits of glass clinked as it hardened too quickly, broke, then fell away.

D heard a faint thump of noise from deep inside the monster's chest. It repeated twice more in rapid succession. Then again. A heartbeat, unsteady at first, but gaining traction.

The thing's upper half twitched, then twisted separate of its lower half. It swung its entire torso around towards Adrian, both arms rising and falling to crash down. They launched backwards, narrowly avoiding being crushed, as their sword shot forward and became embedded in the monster's pockmarked head.

D charged in. The monster spun its upper half like a top, arms spread straight out. One of those massive tree trunk limbs slammed into D's middle; he barely reacted except to wrap his arm around it to keep from being flung. Faster and faster it spun, a sickening merry-go-round of screaming metal and sand flying everywhere.

A few more shots from the lasers bounced harmlessly off the thing. The splashback almost hit D. A nearby tree wasn't so lucky--it went up in flames. He heard Adrian shouting, "Hold your fire!" and Ruby's voice responding, high and alarmed.

The spinning jerked to a halt. Adrian's sword popped out of the monster's head. D, still clinging, huffed out a sharp breath for being shaken like a rag doll. He flipped his sword and placed the sharp, curved edge against the arm on the opposite side of himself. The monster made a fist with its other hand and lashed out at D.

With a hard yank, D cut through the sand and the metal bones beneath. The limb fell in a spray of sparks. He landed in a crouch. The monster's other arm swung harmlessly over head, blowing his hair to one side.

"The legs!" Adrian shouted.

Their sword shot past D on the left side; they rocketed past on the right. Acting on instinct, D flipped his sword and caught it by the blade just below the vines, holding it out. Adrian grabbed it on the way by. The sharp edge cut through D's palm and blood spilled into the dirt even as the wound closed.

D twisted around just in time to see a red and a silver streak shear through both of the monster's legs, right above the knees.

Time seemed to slow down. The monster swung its arm too slow and seemed not to realize it had already lost for several seconds.

Then sparks and sand flew everywhere. There came a horrible groaning noise as the monster collapsed into a heap. Its one remaining arm flopped about against the ground, thrashing.

Adrian skidded to a stop in a crouch, their sword spinning around them and D's held at an angle behind them. Their eyes blazed like hellfire as they rose to their feet.

D stood as well. "My sword."

Wordless, Adrian lobbed the sword upwards in a graceful arc. D caught it, then stepped forward to shove the point through the mechanical monstrosity's core. The nuclear battery vibrated, glowing like coals in a furnace, and then petered out with a soft whump and a cloud of smoke.

By that point, Ruby and her grandson came running down the hill. They stopped well out of reach. The boy kept a tight grip on his rifle, training it on the fallen monster. Ruby seemed more at ease, her rifle held loosely in one hand with the barrel pointing down at the ground.

"Is it over?" Ruby asked.

D nodded. "It's done."

Turning her head, Ruby gazed out towards town. The sirens hadn't stopped and the crack of gunfire sounded out. Further out, the horizon flickered with orange and smoke obscured the stars.

"There's more trouble in town, sounds like." She hefted her rifle to rest it against her shoulder. "We'll have to talk about why there's two of you later."

With too many eyes on him, tearing through him right to his core, D turned and walked away on stiff legs. He escaped to the cellar, snagging his sword scabbard from the ground on the way down.

D dropped his sword on his cot. Listless, he gathered up his clothing--belt, pouches, amulet, scarf, cape, and even his own ruined, bloodied shirt and began to mechanically put it all back on. He missed his hat.

His skin crawled at the idea of appearing before an entire town in such a ragged state. Again, his mind circled around the reality that appearing in the company of another dhampir after the castle's disappearance wouldn't go over well, and it would only be worse if the humans saw any crack in his facade. His luck couldn't be worse.

Adrian appeared on the bottom step with one thumb hooked on one of their belts and their hip cocked. "Are we not going to help?"

"...We should leave as soon as I get paid." D drew his shoulders up, trying to set them straight and true. All he managed to do was look like he was hunched and tensed.

"And that won't be suspicious?"

"They're already suspicious."

"I see."

Saying nothing else, Adrian strode across the room to get their shirt. They shook it out, then pulled it on. Pushing both hands beneath their hair, they spilled the platinum strands out over their shoulders and back.

"...You popped a seam." Adrian plucked at a stray hanging thread at their right shoulder. "What in the world have you been eating to get that bulky?"

"Nothing."

D cast around for any other belongings he might have forgotten. There was nothing aside from the mostly empty saddlebags, of course. He owned so little in the first place.

The hunt had taken so much from him. He glanced sidelong at Adrian, the only proof that it had happened at all--that and the absolute silence of his thoughts. His left hand curled into a fist. D closed his eyes, breathed in deep, and exhaled.

Then the two of them climbed up out of the cellar for what he thought would probably be the last time.

Ruby stood atop one of the crates, watching the horizon. Her grandson had taken a more defensive position on the roof next to his mother. All three of them had rifles at ready.

As D walked past, Ruby said, "Try not to get yourselves killed."

He did not slow or make any outward sign that he heard her. Behind him, Adrian murmured some soothing, empty words. Maybe, "don't worry," or, "be safe."

It didn't matter. None of it did. Nothing could kill him and he would never see any of them ever again to know if they lived or died.

Since he lacked a horse, D walked downhill until he left the farm's spotlights behind. That way, Ruby and her family could not see him take off down the road at speeds far beyond human capability. Adrian kept up easily. They became two blurs, one dark and one pale, kicking up dust in their wake and leaving new cracks in the road.

As they neared the center of town, the roads became more and more broken up, as if the earthquakes happened anew. Just off main, a huge chasm had torn the ground asunder and knocked over a house. It sagged against its neighbor. D and Adrian cleared the gap far more easily than a horse might have.

Dozens of imps crawled all over the buildings on main street, their small black bodies glittering like beetle shells in the flicker of shattered spotlights. More fluttered in the air overhead. They fought over everything--meat from the corpses of townies they'd killed, bits of cloth ripped from windows and tents, and coins and other shinies.

D cut down any imp that came near him as he came to a stop in the middle of the street. Adrian launched their sword and let it spin around them like a whirlwind of steel. It provided something of a buffer, buying D time to take in the chaos.

"What's the plan?" Adrian asked.

Gunfire echoed from down the street. The sheriff and his deputies manned a makeshift barricade of toppled carriages and barrels. The orderly campsite around town hall had been torn to pieces. If there were any other survivors, they'd have to be holed up inside with nothing between them and certain doom but a handful of men with outdated weaponry.

More creatures of earth and metal had come up from the desert, all drawn towards town hall. They smashed buildings, fences, spotlights, and anything else in their way. The biggest of the lot battered itself against the west side of the barricade, undeterred by the bullets and laser shots piercing it.

Choosing the nearest target, D raised his sword, holding it horizontally in both hands. He glanced over at Adrian. "Go for the cores."

Then he charged in, ducked under a huge fist, and stabbed up. His sword pierced through the machine's power source. As before, the battery vibrated as it lit up, the beginnings of a miniature explosion that would rip through the thing's chest as it collapsed.

D yanked his sword out and jumped away, already going after another one. Adrian and their flying sword veered off after targets on the other side of the street.

Between the two of them, they made quick work of the monstrous machines and dozens of imps besides. They left a trail of devastation in their wake--bloody chunks of meat rained down as imps gasped their last and heaps of sand and earth fell away to expose rusted bones to the air.

That left the largest of the earthen monsters. It flung an entire carriage from the barricade, crashing it through one of the town hall's walls in a shower of glass and metal.

Imps crawled in through the gap it made, overwhelming the deputies. Screams of fear and pain mingled with the wild cackle of the imps. The crack of gunfire became sporadic as the sheriff and his last three deputies retreated for the town hall doors.

Adrian got to the barricade first. They soared over, legs folded up, arms outstretched at either side of them. Their sword zipped past and pierced through an imp, pinning it to the ground. At the same time, Adrian landed on another imp, crushing its rib cage on impact. They lashed out at another to slice its neck open with a fistful of claws.

Meanwhile, D raced at the giant monster's back. He leapt with his sword held above his head and sank the blade into the back of its neck, right above its shoulders. The monster let out a groaning roar and tried to throw him off. He braced his feet against its back and hung onto his sword until the thrashing passed.

As if summoned by the roar, all the other imps scattered around town came screaming through the air. They formed a swirling vortex of flailing bodies and gnashing teeth.

D had a split second to brace himself before the mass slammed into him.

The sheer force of the tidal wave of sharp edges shredding through cloth and skin overwhelmed D. He could think of nothing but hanging on. Wounds split open and closed with each breath. His sword slipped down under his weight one agonizing inch at a time until it became jammed in a solid notch in the monster's spine.

The monster shuddered, electricity crackling all around it. Countless thousands of jolts radiated up through D's sword and sank into his arm. He couldn't let go even if he wanted to as he cooked from the inside out.

Some of the imps smashed into the ground and died. The rest rose back up and circled down for another pass. The electricity sizzled out at last and D fell. His back hit the ground at the same time the second wave of imps hit him.

A high pitched shriek cut through the cacophony at the same time as a blur of red light cut through the swarm. A streak of silver followed the light. Adrian.

The remaining imps scattered, then turned on their attacker. Adrian's form was that of a massive bat-like creature with glowing red eyes, tailed by that silver sword that flew of its own accord. The firefight that followed was brutal, bloody, and short. The imps never stood a chance against Adrian's speed or their bulk.

Bodies and blood rained down around D. Adrian touched down next to him, their form swirling as they became humanoid once more. The sword floated to their left with the tip pointing to the ground.

Numbly, D blinked up at the other dhampir. His breaths came out in short pants as his wounds sealed up like nothing had ever happened.

"You're not in very good shape, are you?" Adrian clicked their tongue. "If all you eat is pills, I'm surprised you're still alive."

"Can't die."

Adrian bent to swipe their thumb against a still healing burn on D's shoulder. Pain radiated outwards anew, making D flinch. Adrian's heavy golden lashes fluttered as they tilted their head to one side, allowing their hair to fall artfully over half of their face.

"...So I see."

The earthen monster twitched. Adrian never noticed as it reared back and swung its fist. D threw himself upwards, fighting against the pain screaming down every nerve ending as he tore still healing wounds. He grabbed Adrian's sword and stabbed it through the monster's core, right before its fist slammed into both of them, sending them flying.

D's body rolled over and over and smacked into a wall, breaking it and several of his bones. Adrian went soaring through the air, twisting and catching themself right before the sharp point of a weather vane.

Laying there in the gutter with bits of stone crumbling around him, struggling to breathe as his vision slowly began to darken, D supposed that just about summed up his lot in life.


	12. alive

The next thing D knew, he lay flat on his back on a cot. Only a scratchy blanket protected him from the chill seeping from the roughly hewn stone wall to his left. The ceiling above him was the familiar bare bones rafters of the cellar. How he got there eluded him.

He turned his head slightly to find Adrian sitting on the other cot with one leg drawn up, an arm draped atop their knee, cheek pillowed against the arm. Their hair spilled down over one shoulder in a loose braid. Somehow, they'd managed to replace their ruined shirt with a black one with an elaborate, shimmery gold floral pattern.

"You're awake. Good." Adrian swung their legs off the cot and leaned back on their hands. "I was beginning to wonder if we'd have to add your carcass to the funeral pyre."

"How long."

"You loafed about for thirty-seven hours."

D sat up too quick, dragging the blanket up over his shoulders like a shawl. He set his feet flat on the cold floor and braced his arms against his knees. It felt like a thousand tons of weight pushed down on him. His muscles quivered for just that small amount of movement.

To his credit, D managed not to make any sound. With some effort, he even managed to smooth his brow, maintaining that illusion of aloof indifference.

Adrian crossed one leg over the other and bounced the foot that dangled. "They're all waiting for you to go berserk, you know."

"They always are."

"Tsk. Such childish pessimism."

D lifted his head and stared blankly through Adrian.

"Here."

Adrian got up from the cot to drag an icebox from beneath. They flipped the lid open and a cloud of chilly mist hissed out. Nestled in ice inside lay two semi-transparent pouches with twist off caps at one end. They contained a red liquid that left a clinging residue when it sloshed. Blood.

Picking one of them up, Adrian held it out to D. He could only stare at it in revulsion, even as his instincts cried out for it.

"There's no need to look like I'm offering you a dead rat."

"Aren't you."

"No, this is mine, freely given."

"...Yours."

"Yes, mine." Adrian bobbed the pouch. "Mrs. Dagman offered, but she needs her strength... and you need something a little stronger, too."

"This could be poison," D said, voice flat.

For a second, Adrian frowned. Then they tossed their head, laughing quietly. The braid swung against their back as they shook with amusement.

"Shall I drink my own blood, then? A toast to self-worship."

D lifted his hand; it was less steady than he'd like. The cold pouch squelched unpleasantly in the palm of his hand when Adrian surrendered it. Yet, even cold, the blood inside tasted better than anything he'd had in a long, long time. He guzzled it down greedily, unable to help but make a soft gasping noise.

Almost before he'd finished the first, Adrian handed over the second. D made short work of that, too.

The blood sizzled in his belly. Warmth radiated outwards, all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes and even his nose and ears. The constant fog lifted from his thoughts. For the first time in too long, he felt fully awake.

Still it was not enough.

The tremor in D's hands worsened when he passed the pouches back. The urge to grab Adrian by the wrist in order to wrench that pale arm close and bite in made D's mouth water. He tucked his chin, averted his gaze, and licked uneasily at the backs of his teeth. The sharp points were starting to lengthen against his will.

Casually, Adrian dropped the pouches in the icebox and nudged it back under the cot. "When is the last time you ate?"

D glanced pointedly under the cot.

Shaking their head, Adrian raised both brows. " _Actual_ food."

"...I don't need it."

"Ah, yes, of course. Because barely scraping by is sufficient, I'm sure." Adrian paced away, then back, arms swinging at their side in a broad, dramatic sweep. "It's a wonder you survived the castle. What was your plan if you ran into your Sacred Ancestor? I can only assume it's, 'lie down and die'."

"Kill them." D rose up onto unsteady legs to look down his nose at Adrian. He had a few inches and twice the bulk on the other dhampir, though they both knew he'd fall over at the first stiff breeze. "...Then I can die."

Adrian opened their mouth. Their gold eyes flicked side to side, searching D's face. The color darkened, edges beginning to fade to red. Then they spun away, braid flying.

Sinking back down onto his cot, D watched them stalk across the cellar. They paced and clenched their fists and fumed and seemed not to know what to do with themself. D wondered why it mattered so much but did not ask.

Eventually, Adrian grabbed a duffel bag from near the door. They marched over and dumped it onto the cot next to D.

Then they left, snatching a coat and a broad brim hat and sunglasses on the way out. They stormed off up the cellar doors, out into blinding sunlight as if it couldn't make them ill even with the paltry protection of layers.

Maybe it couldn't. Maybe dhampirs from before the Sacred Ancestor didn't suffer the sun quite so bad. If such a thing were real. D still wasn't convinced Adrian _had_ slept for ten thousand years, that there had ever been anything before.

He unzipped the duffel bag and found neatly folded clothes inside, all black, though not all the same shade. It looked like a hodgepodge of hand-me-downs. Some of it didn't quite fit but Adrian had collected spares.

D dressed slowly, then laid there on the cot, wheezing softly. Sweat beaded his temple. A dark purple flush spread across his gray skin as his temperature climbed.

He knew it to be sunlight syndrome a moment later, when he could not lift his arm. His stay in Thacea's garden had not been long enough.

Perhaps sleeping in the cellar had helped slow the symptoms because it was below the earth. Unfortunately, solid cinder block and cement lay between him and true relief.

The distance from his cot to the stairs seemed an unfathomable amount to crawl. Nevertheless, D rolled off the cot and staggered that way. Gravity pushed down at him, heavier with each step. He made it halfway before collapsing entirely.

Dangling somewhere between awake and not, unable to move an inch, barely able to breathe, D lay like a corpse on the floor. The cool stone brought him no relief as his fever intensified. Sweat sizzled and steamed off of him. His vision went dark, filled with sparks that matched the pain searing through his body.

The seconds ran together and seemed to drag on into eternity. Coherent thought eluded him. Whispers of memory and disjointed noise hounded him. A voice as deep and eternal as the dark, cold place D was created in chided him for his weakness. The chitter and screams of creations beyond number came from all sides. A constant, high pitched squeak pierced one ear. The woman that did not exist wept.

On and on and on it went until all he wanted was to beg for the end he did not deserve.

A lifetime later, his body was jostled and wrenched up from the floor and bounced along. His brain felt like it sloshed and slammed against the inside of his skull. His stomach mirrored the sensation, its contents rising in the back of his throat.

Fingers dug into his arms and left bruises. Cool shadows gave away to blinding light that burned. D flinched away, turned his face against the warm, moving wall that pushed him along, unrelenting and cruel in its kindness.

He heard a hoarse voice rising in alarm but could not make sense of anything said. Another voice answered, and then another, and another, and then they were all echoing and it was too much.

Total dark and silence stole over him as he dropped unconscious. No dreams and no memories came to him.

It was if he blinked between one moment and the next.

D woke in the dark with dirt pinning him down on all sides. No trace of his earlier fever remained. He flexed his fingers. Something slimy squirmed furiously against his hand and up his arm to escape. Some other creature with prickly feet scurried under his shirt. Still others explored his hair.

When he sat up, spilling earth everywhere, he startled not only his passengers but his grave's guardian. Adrian stared with comically wide eyes over the thin paperback book they'd dropped. D blinked owlishly back.

A big yellow battery-powered torch wedged in the tree at their back provided stark light to the scene. Shadows stretched dark and eerie between the two dhampirs. Otherwise, it was pitch black out, the only sounds the distant noises of insects and other nocturnal creatures.

"Awake again..." Adrian picked up their book and marked their place with a scrap of paper. "Feeling any better?"

"Not dead."

Adrian snorted. "No, not yet."

D turned his head to glance around. He had been buried in one of the terraced fields at the foot of a skinny olive tree. Gingerly, he climbed the rest of the way out of his hole. He swept bits of clinging dirt away, then plucked some of his squirming passengers out of his hair, flicking them to the ground.

"The Dagmans called it Sunlight Syndrome." Tapping the corner of the book against their chin, Adrian eyed D sidelong. "I can't decide if that's better or worse than a sun allergy."

"...You _are_ different, then."

"So it seems."

Shrugging, Adrian finally stood up. They bent to brush their pants off with the back of one hand. Then they tucked the book under an arm and picked the torch up, angling the beam of light down, away from their face.

"I can't spare any more blood so soon--"

"I have capsules," D said.

Adrian gave D an impatient look. "Yes. Mrs. Dagman has made a black broth, as well."

"Why would she go to such lengths...?"

"Helping people has its perks."

D leveled a disbelieving stare at Adrian's back as they walked away. Humans never thanked him, especially not for help offered freely. He had a feeling that Adrian had said or done something.

If they'd threatened the locals while D slept...

He clenched his fist.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" Adrian asked.

With a slight shake of his head, D moved to follow. Adrian led the way to the back of the house. The windows were dark and the house was quiet, its occupants likely asleep. Neither the creak of the cellar doors nor the bang of them shutting behind D seemed to wake anyone.

At the bottom of the steps, Adrian flicked the lights on. Then they tossed their book and the torch onto their cot and retrieved a thermos from beneath. D stayed near the doorway, watching as they poured out a generous cupful of thick broth so dark it looked black in the low, flickering yellow lights. The smell was heady, both meaty and coppery.

Adrian held the cup out. "Drink up, then you can have your dreadfully boring capsules."

"What have you been eating while I slept?"

"Broth, mostly. Two of your capsules. Ten thousand years is a long time to go without solid food."

"You eat food." D frowned. "For more than pleasure."

"Yes, of course." Adrian raised both brows as they tilted the cup towards themself and glanced down at the contents. "I'm half human, after all." They sniffed the broth, then looked up at D. "Aren't you?"

"Probably."

"Then eat."

"What do you care?"

"I don't, really," Adrian admitted. "But I am a doctor and you're my best bet for tracking down this Sacred Ancestor."

D moved forward to accept the cup of broth at last. It was lukewarm at best. A thin skin began to form on the top as it congealed. " _You're_ a doctor."

Folding their arms, Adrian cocked their hip to the side. "It may interest you to know that there were times in the past when an all-consuming fear of everything inhuman didn't exist."

"It's genetic."

"What is?"

"The fear."

"What does that mean?"

Saying nothing, D swirled the cup to break up some of the skin, then took a tentative sip. It was rich and salty, with a sour aftertaste like vinegar. With the faintest wrinkle of his nose, he downed the rest. The taste grew on him as the vingary sourness faded and allowed more of the meaty flavor to come through.

"You have an annoying habit of hoarding all your knowledge, you know that?" Adrian shook their head. "Fine."

"You could leave."

"I told you--"

"How can you be sure I'm your best bet?"

Adrian's expression became pinched. Their lip curled on one side, showing a retracted fang. Pupils narrowing to slits, the gold in their eyes flashed with heated annoyance. Then they sucked in a steadying breath, closed their eyes, and shrugged as if to shed their emotions.

"No one else seems to know a thing about your Nobles except their fears," Adrian said, slow and measured. They opened their eyes to glare. "They know you, though. The most famous vampire hunter on the Frontier. That implies a well-traveled sort of man, doesn't it?"

D set the thermos cup at the end of their cot. He met their gaze for a moment, saying not a word, then walked over to his own cot. There, he picked his sword up from where it leaned against the edge, and laid down with it crossed over his chest.

"You're impossible," he heard Adrian hiss, all crackly annoyance and exasperation. As if they had any right to project their expectations on him.

Still saying nothing, D went to sleep.

The next time D opened his eyes, he was alone.

Sitting up, he glanced around the cellar. A thin sliver of sunlight streamed down onto the stairs through the gap in the doors. The other cot had been made up and propped against the wall.

All of Adrian's belongings were gone, everything except the thermos sitting on the floor right next to D's cot. He picked it up and felt warmth seeping through the sides. Even if Adrian had left, it hadn't been long ago.

Twisting the cap off, he found yet more of the black broth inside. He made himself drink two cupfuls. It tasted much better hot. Almost as good as a mouthful of fresh blood, the traitorous part of his mind whispered. That thought curdled his stomach and killed his appetite entirely.

D got up, slinging his sword over his shoulder. After a moment's hesitation, he made up the cot and set it against the wall next to the others. He found his saddlebags in a corner and draped them over his shoulder. He left the thermos where he'd found it.

Venturing outside, he spotted Ruby and her family toiling in the terraced fields. They seemed to be dragging away fallen trees and scattered mechanical parts to a heap at the very bottom of the hill. He must have missed quite a bit in his slumber, as there were dozens of smaller robots strewn around, littered with melted holes from lasers or cleanly sliced in two.

He heard the sound of a page turning to his left. Adrian sat on a crate against the house with their back to the wall, one leg drawn up. The book was another slim, glossy volume, unlikely to contain much in the way of facts.

A black hat with a round, broad brim sat on their head and a pair of red tinted sunglasses perched on their nose. Otherwise, they wore layers of black and white: thigh high boots, pants, turtleneck, gloves, coat, and cape. Paltry protection from the sun, but better than nothing.

Better than D's own hodgepodge of clothing and lack of a hat. He needed to remedy that, as soon as he got his payment.

"Still hanging around," D said.

"Where else would I go?"

"Seems you've curried favor with the Dagmans."

"Mm." Adrian glanced over the top of their book, towards the farmers. "The castle emits a high volume of energy when it moves... Seems to have jolted discarded machines into a rampage." They turned the page. "It was my responsibility."

"Could stay here."

"And live out my days as a monster in a basement? Not likely."

"You said you were a doctor. Towns could always use one."

Adrian snorted. "No, it seems you were right. The Dagmans might be grateful, but the rest of the town is suspicious." They snapped the book shut with a sigh. "Besides, tracking down the castle and taking it back is _also_ my responsibility."

"Let's go."

"Oh, decided to let me tag along after all?"

D walked away without answering. He nodded to the farmers as he passed, but did not slow when Ruby called out to him. Instead, he headed around to the front of the house and down the road.

That left Adrian to bid farewell and hurry to catch up with him. "Didn't anyone teach you manners?"

"No."

Adrian frowned up at him. The way their mouth slanted to the side gave away their doubtful confusion. Curiously, they let the subject drop.

The walk into town passed quietly. They passed numerous heaps of mechanical junk, torn up bushes, and broken fences. With the roads in disarray, the few townies they saw busied themselves with clearing away rubble, filling in holes, and preparing to lay fresh tar.

Main street glittered under the sun, slick and black. D strayed to the side of the road and picked his way around broken up fences and sidewalks rather than risk getting his boots stuck in tar. He stopped abruptly on realizing that Adrian lacked sense or shame, as they floated a couple inches off the ground.

With a hiss, D made a downward slicing motion with his hand. "Can you not?"

"What?"

"You're giving them reason to want to stake you."

"They already know what I am." Adrian rolled their eyes with a shrug. "What difference does it make?"

A pair of women with a gaggle of children playing in the yard behind them watched the pair warily. A group of men spreading tar evenly over a patch of road paused in their work to gawk. A deputy pacing in the shade of a porch across the street fingered his six-shooter.

"Get. Down."

Huffing, Adrian drifted over to set down on the grass next to D. "This is so much wasted effort."

"Yes."

Adrian blinked at that. They put up no further resistance and meekly followed D as he continued to trudge along the side of the road. The humans kept watching, but some of their nervous tension faded.

Scaffolding and canvas covered the front of the town hall. Repairs seemed to be on hold, as no one was up on the scaffolds. D ducked through dangling ropes to reach the front door.

Inside, the lobby was empty but for the secretary sweeping up rubble and broken glass. She froze on seeing the two dhampirs.

"Oh, oh, sir," she blurted. "You're up. Um, let me... let me just notify the mayor..."

Dropping her broom and dustpan, she all but fled down the hall. Rather than wait politely, D trailed after her.

"You're a popular guy," Adrian muttered.

The door to the mayor's office started to swing shut just as D reached it. He put his hand out to stop it, then entered.

The secretary said, "Mayor Rahm, the vampire hunter is--er, _hunters_ are--" Her cheeks went dark and her eyes went big and round on seeing D and Adrian enter. "--uh. Here." She shrank back out of the way with a muttered apology, wringing her hands together.

"Thank you, Miss Narica." The mayor flapped his hand from behind a leaning stack of paperwork. "You may go."

D sidestepped one way and Adrian the other, smoothly parting to let the secretary escape before she burst a blood vessel.

Sighing, Rahm finished scratching out a signature. "Well now. Seems our circumstances have changed."

"You will pay me as agreed."

"Is that all?" Rahm blinked rapidly. "Seein' as there's two of you now, and you've rendered more'n your share of services..."

"Ah." D tilted his head, eyeing Adrian.

"I didn't make any agreements beforehand." Adrian shook their head. "It seems you'll need all your resources for repairs..."

"I see, I see. A right charitable soul you are, uh--?"

"Alucard."

"Alucard, then." Rahm bobbed his head as he pushed up from his desk. He leaned on hand on the corner of it as he looked between each dhampir. "Then, if you only want our original agreement... Let me reward your extra efforts all the same, if you would. You'll be needing horses, correct?"

D said, "I can pay for them."

"No need, no need. You see, with all the damage from the attacks, we have more beasts than hands to look after 'em."

"I see."

Rahm grabbed his pen and a fresh sheet of paper. He bent to scrawl out a few lines and signed his name in big, looping letters at the bottom. When finished, he held the paper out to D.

"If you'll take this out to the Rickter ranch, they'll give you your pick and be happy for it."

D pinched the corner of the paper between forefinger and thumb. "If you say so."

"Yessir." Nodding, Rahm swung away to a safe in the corner. "Now, let's get you paid so you can be about your business. No sense stickin' 'round some lil town like ours with nothin' to hunt, right?"

Indeed, there wasn't.


	13. across the wires

With a pocket full of dalas, the voucher from the mayor folded up in his coat pocket, and directions to the Rickter ranch, D set out from town hall at a brisk walk. Adrian followed half a step behind and to the left. They kept to themself, face tucked into the high collar of their coat.

"Back there," D said. He turned his head aside to glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Hmm?"

"Do you prefer Alucard?"

"Only when I'm hunting."

Accepting that, D moved on.

The Rickter ranch lay southeast of main street. The state of the roads meant it was easier to veer out near the junkyard. The further away from the desert they went, the more the roads looked mostly unscathed.

As they neared the junkyard, a horse came trotting down the road. The sheriff pulled up beside them and tipped his hat.

"Howdy, hunters."

D came to a halt. "Sheriff."

"Ya forget 'bout your promise to ol' Rana?"

"No."

"And...?"

"There wasn't anything like that."

"Ya best be plannin' on tellin' him that yourself, 'fore ya leave town." Chavez glared down his nose as he set his hand against the revolver at his hip. "He's got more'n he can handle now as we had them robots invadin'. Woulda been mighty fine if ya'd kept your word 'n found what he needed."

"I only promised to look."

"Uh-huh. Y'all best finish your business. Like to see your backs 'fore sundown."

With that, the sheriff kicked his horse and rode off. D watched him go without voicing a single one of the spiteful little snarls of irritation caught in the back of his throat.

"What was that about?" Adrian asked.

"Nothing important."

Sighing huffily, Adrian let it go until they passed the junkyard's crooked tin sign hanging off the fence. D kept going for several steps before realizing Adrian had stopped walking.

"What," he said, flat.

Adrian tipped their head back and their sunglasses down, studying the heaps of junk visible over the top of the fence. "What were you supposed to find?"

"...A matter compressor."

"Oh is that all." Adrian's voice went a little high and mocking as they turned towards D, raising both brows. "Yes, of course humans would want something so simple. It's not like it's built right into the castle or anything..."

"See."

"Anyway, I can take care of the problem myself."

Going tense, D echoed, "The problem?"

"Yes. The trash heap overfloweth and there's nowhere to put anything else." Adrian spread their arms, palms upturned. "Give me ten minutes and I can flatten it. Your task complete, no broken hearts in your wake."

D exhaled. For a second, he'd thought the solution had been... But no, Adrian didn't seem intentionally malicious.

"That won't solve his problem in the future."

"No, but we can't have everything, can we?"

"I suppose not." D tucked his chin. "Can you do it without being seen?"

"Why?"

"Rana is... chatty."

That made Adrian laugh, lashes fanning out over their cheeks as they ducked their head. "...Sure, let's go do your good deed but sneakily. Wouldn't want your reputation to be tarnished with any more kindness."

To avoid being seen by the junkyard's security cameras, D and Adrian walked on down the road until it curved away behind some trees. Then they stepped off the road and wound their way back, staying low. From the safety of an overgrown tangle of shrubbery draped with spiderwebs, D pointed out the cameras.

"I've always wondered who would bother stealing junk," Adrian muttered.

Then their form flowed like smoke and became small enough to fit into D's hand. The bat made a hopping, running start, then took off. D watched little furry spot as it flew up over the fence and disappeared from sight.

As tempting as it was to follow, the cameras would definitely see him. He would just have to trust that Adrian would do the job and nothing else. D sat back against a tree with his arms folded to wait. The only sign of his impatience was the way he dug his fingers into his sides beneath his arms. Otherwise, he looked ready to nap with his chin tucked and his long legs spread out before him.

From behind the junkyard fences, there came several crunching noises in rapid succession. The tops of leaning towers of junk began to vanish one by one.

A short alarm blatted and dogs barked. Distantly, D could just make out the hoarse sound of the old man shouting. A second later, the bat sped up through the air and shot through the woods, heading east.

D waited until the commotion died back down before moving. He snuck back the way he'd come, putting as much distance between himself and the junkyard before stepping out onto the road.

As he walked, he kept an eye out for Adrian. It would be nearly impossible to find a bat in the treetops. He hoped the other dhampir would come out of their own accord.

Just as he started to wonder if Adrian had taken the opportunity to split, the bushes to his right rustled. D turned towards them with one hand going for a wooden needle from his belt. Smoke coiled from inside the bush and Adrian popped out, flinging dead leaves everywhere.

Awkwardly, they stepped out of the bush while brushing leaves off their coat. "You didn't tell me there would be _dogs_."

"I didn't know."

Adrian gave him a long, considering look. "...Well, your good deed will just have to go half-finished."

"Better than not at all."

D turned on his heel and set off down the road once more. Falling into step next to him, Adrian nodded emphatically.

"Exactly. If he has complaints, he can file them with whoever's in charge in this backwoods town."

"That would be the sweaty man that gave us money."

Lips parting, Adrian tilted their head. "...Oh. That explains a few things."

"Such as?"

"Our current state of affairs. Walking through sunlit woods to go get horses because a sweaty man gave us a piece of paper." A pause, in which Adrian eyed him sidelong. "...Are you planning on getting a hat? It seems foolish to traipse around without something when you've only just climbed up out of your grave."

"Horses first," D said, "In case hospitality runs short."

"A fair point. Try not to die before then."

"...Can't die."

Adrian huffed, soft and amused.

The rest of their short walk to the ranch went by without incident.

D felt grateful for the trees shading them. Unfortunately, the ranch itself was a broad, open space comprised of dry, barren fields baking gently under the sun. He took one look at it and sighed.

"Do you want my hat?" Adrian offered.

"Don't you have a sun allergy?"

"Yes, but it won't put me in the ground."

"...What will it do."

"Oh, burn my skin off so that I'll peel."

"Is that all?"

"All the way to the bone, D. It's not pretty, but it's better than the horror that comes after."

D looked at Adrian. Because he could not think of anything worse than being stripped down to the bone, he asked, "What comes after?"

" _Freckles_."

His amused snort startled them both. As Adrian's face lit up with slow recognition and delight, D whirled away and pushed through the ranch's gates to start the long trek across the property.

Adrian chased after him, practically bounding. "You _can_ emote! I was beginning to wonder if your face was stuck that way."

D tucked his chin, refusing to respond.

In the corrals beyond the ranch house, a pair of men, a trio of young boys, and a couple of dogs attended a herd of sheep. One by one, the animals were herded into a smaller pen, where they were quickly and expertly sheared by one of the two men. Then they were released into a different corral, free to join the rest of the newly shorn herd as they grazed.

The arrival of two dhampirs threw the animals into disarray. The sheep began to scream and scatter and the dogs barked madly, bouncing against the fence hard enough to rattle the boards.

D stopped a good ten feet away to wait as the ranchers scrambled to get their herd under control. Adrian hung back another step or two with their hat pulled low.

One of the ranchers, a small dark man in a floppy broad brim straw hat, hopped the fence. He approached the dhampirs with a shotgun tucked under one arm.

"You're... the hunters," the rancher said. His voice remained remarkably steady as he looked between the two dhampirs warily. "What brings y'all out here?"

D glanced past, at the boys dragging the dogs away. Flatly, he said, "Sorry to interrupt your work." Then he fixed his gaze on the rancher. He produced the signed paper from the mayor and held it out between forefinger and middle finger. "We were told you have horses to spare."

The rancher snatched the paper and flipped it open. After frowning over it for a moment or two, he nodded. "More'n we know what to do with, sure 'nuff."

With a flap of the paper, the rancher turned and led the way to the other side of the ranch house, along the western edge of the property. There, two large stables and the attached corrals were packed with cyborg horses of all kinds. Just as the rancher said, there were too many for one ranch to support for long.

"You'd be doin' us both a favor, takin' some of them big bastards."

The rancher gestured with his shotgun towards the far end of one of the corrals. A cluster of plow horses idled there in the shade of a scraggly tree. D's gaze was drawn to a massive black horse standing separate of the others.

"D," Adrian said. "I'm not that skilled at riding."

D inclined his head towards the other dhampir. "Understood." To the rancher, he said, "Let me take a closer look."

Nodding, the rancher pushed open one of the corral gates. "Sure."

Unlike the sheep or the dogs, none of the cyborg horses recoiled from D's presence as he walked amongst them. Their programming kept them calm in the presence of Noble blood. With the rancher and Adrian trailing after him, he passed numerous models designed for farmwork.

First, he approached the big black horse. It was even taller than D, its head larger than his torso, and its massive hooves were bigger than a man's skull. While it was a true plow horse, it was also well suited for war. D ran his hand along its mechanical parts and found no rust, no loose wires. Someone had taken very good care of it.

The model make was engraved on the thigh plating: PER67c. D rubbed his thumb against it idly. It was an extremely high end model, not something he ever expected to find in a small town at the edge of a desert.

"Are you certain this wouldn't be missed?" D asked.

The rancher shrugged the shoulder he had his shotgun propped against. "It's too damn big to keep fed and maintained."

"Do you have its saddle and bridle?"

"Yessir."

"Fine, we'll take it." D patted the horse on the hind one last time, then turned away to peer out over the corral. "What else do you have that isn't useful to farmers?"

"Hm..." Scratching at his scruffy chin, the rancher frowned out over the horses. "And good for a novice, eh?"

Adrian muttered, "Please don't put me on a mule, my self-esteem couldn't take it."

"Hah, as if we'd give a mule away!"

The rancher laughed as he swaggered off towards the stables. Adrian gave D a helpless, confused look. He only lifted his shoulder slightly in response.

Inside the west-most stable, the cyborg horses stood shoulder to shoulder in the stalls. Some of the stalls contained as many as three ponies, all in stand-by mode and hooked up to feeder IVs. It seemed only the bigger horses were let to wander around in the corrals.

The rancher came to a stop somewhere in the middle. He swept his hand towards the stalls containing two horses apiece. All of them average in size and make and likely temperament, too.

"Here, prob'ly this lot'll do you."

While D gave the horses a closer inspection, Adrian idled further down the row. A soft gasp, barely heard over the white noise of so many machines idling, drew D's attention. He turned to find Adrian standing down at the end, frozen in front of a stall. Curious, D walked over to see what had caught the other dhampir's attention so.

The stall contained a single horse. A pale creamy creature that shone like velvet in the light, so impossibly slender that it looked like it was all legs and neck. Its parts were all semi-transparent, flecked with gold, so that one could see the inner workings of machinery and circuit boards. White eyes with odd horizontal pupils watched them sleepily.

In short, it was a flashy creature designed for fashion. Yet, as D studied it further, he could not find fault in its workings. Whoever owned it must have been very rich indeed to afford a creature that looked as though it might outpace all but the most fine-tuned of cars.

The rancher sidled up with a scoff. "You're not wanting that'n, are you? Might be a bit much for a beginner to handle."

Adrian stepped away, pushing their sunglasses up to hide their eyes. They tucked their hands into their pockets and shook their head, saying nothing at all.

"Where did you get such a thing?" D asked.

"Oh, we had a lady come out from one of them big cities, some twenty years back." Despite his misgivings, the rancher opened up the stall. He grabbed the bridle hanging on the wall and put it on the horse, then walked it out. "She had all sorts of people comin' 'n goin', owin' her money and such like. Used to have a trio of these, sold 'em off as the years got harder, yanno."

"I assume you meant to sell this one, too."

"Hyeap."

D laid his hand against the horse's shoulder. It was much shorter than his own pick, maybe five feet and a few inches at the shoulder. For someone shorter and leaner than he, it would be fine.

Facing Adrian, D tilted his head in silent askance. Adrian's lips parted. Then they reached out to touch the horse, skirting gloved fingers along its arched neck with something like covetous reverence.

Probably it wasn't the most practical choice. People would see them coming from miles off and the horse would be as memorable as them. But... sometimes, it really was the small frivolous joys that kept one going.

D looked to the rancher. "How much?"

"Five hundred thou, comes with saddle 'n all."

Nodding, D dug through his pouch and saddlebags. The last job had not paid nearly enough to cover it but he had thick gold coins sewn into the lining of his bags. Apparently Rana had not noticed the hidden wealth when he helped himself to D's belongings. Small favors.

The rancher's eyes got very large as D dropped a handful of them into his hand, more than enough to cover the horse's cost.

"The saddles, then."

"Yessir, thank you kindly, right away."

Stuffing the gold coins in his pockets, the rancher hurried off to get both horses ready. D looked at the horse, then its new owner. Gold eyes watched him from over the rim of the sunglasses.

"I assume that was a hefty price for a horse," Adrian said in a soft voice.

"Barely a dent."

"I see." Adrian breathed in deep, then exhaled shakily, petting the horse's shoulder. "...Thank you."

Neither said anything else as the rancher saddled the horse, then led them out to the corral to collect and saddle D's. While they were at it, D secured his bags to the saddle, rather than continue to carry them around over his shoulder.

As they led their horses out of the corral by the reins, the rancher waved his hat. "Y'all find yourself in the area needin' horses again, c'mon by, y'hear? Ol' Barnaby Rickter'll always have somethin' to sell ya!"

Once out on the road, Adrian murmured, "He seems eager, now."

Mounting his horse, D gathered the reins and walked it in a loose circle around Adrian and their horse. He came to a stop facing west, back the way they had walked from. "He'll remember what we are later."

"Hm." Adrian laid their hands against the saddle. Pausing, they glanced up and down the horse's back. "...You're not going to mock me relentlessly as I make a fool of myself trying to ride this, are you?"

D looked at Adrian out of the corner of his eye. And said nothing.

"Very reassuring, thanks."

Gripping the sword at their hip to keep it still, Adrian did not so much climb into the saddle as float. As soon as they set down in the saddle, the horse danced sideways. Probably if Adrian could not levitate, they would have spilled out of the saddle immediately.

D reached out to grab the horse by the bridle, stilling it. "I'll reprogram it later."

"You can do that?"

"Yes. Give me the reins, I'll guide you for now."

Adrian tossed the reins over and D tied them to his saddle horn. With one last glance back, D gently nudged his horse into motion. He kept the pace at a slow walk until he was certain Adrian wouldn't fall and the smaller horse wouldn't spook. Then he urged the horses into a trot.

They rode back to the edge of main street without incident.

Given the risk of breaking a horse's leg on a pothole and the roadwork barring their way, D slipped from his saddle. He tied the reins to a crooked sign post. Adrian patted at their horse's neck as if afraid it would vanish before dismounting.

Ruefully, D wondered if he should invest in some handkerchiefs. Adrian looked to be disgustingly attached to the beast already. The Frontier was no place to form lasting attachments to animal companions. Sooner or later, something awful would happen.

"Are you going to name yours?" Adrian asked. "I'm terrible at names..."

D wisely kept his mouth shut.

He turned away and set off down the side of the road, searching for the general store. Most of the buildings on main leaned crookedly or had collapsed entirely. The general store was little more than a heap of rubble with a sign sticking out of it. D stood in front of it for a moment, mind blank.

"D."

Adrian pointed out a chalkboard sign sitting nearby. It read, _Store,_ with a big pink arrow pointing between the ruined buildings.

A covered wagon was parked in the alley behind the remains of the general store. A small crowd of townies clustered around it, haggling over various goods. Others came and went, delivering barrels and crates, or carrying them off.

The gray-haired woman standing on the driver's seat squinted suspiciously at D and Adrian as they approached. The rest of the crowd shied away from them.

"Mighty grateful for your service, but we don't want none," the woman said. "Take it elsewhere."

D nodded and turned to go back he way he'd come. Adrian caught him by the arm, frowning. They stared at each other, at a silent impasse.

With a flare of their nostrils, Adrian released D and stepped forward. They faced the crowd, one hand fisted against their hip. "We need a hat, canteens, and rations, and we'll pay double whatever this harridan would've charged."

That got results.

One man came forward to sell the traveler's hat from his head for three times its worth. A woman and her two children traded their meager rations, and the small fortune D gave them would buy an entire house full of food. An old man surrendered his canteens for a pair of crisp ten thousand dala bills. They even walked away with new saddlebags and a sleeping bag for Adrian, the costs of which didn't bear thinking of.

Thoroughly cleaned out of his recent paycheck, D carried their supplies back to the horses. Adrian walked ahead, arms swinging, looking rather pleased with themself.

"Oi!" a voice called from behind them.

Glancing back, D saw Ruby and her daughter picking their way around a heap of discarded wood. For a split second, he thought about ignoring her. Then, sighing, he stopped and turned.

Ruby marched up to him and put her hands on her hips. "Tryin' to leave without sayin' goodbye, hunter? What a rude and uncouth man."

"...Sorry."

"Hmph."

"How can we help you, Mrs. Dagman?" Adrian asked. As they stepped up to stand too close to D's side, the corners of their mouth kept twitching with barely contained amusement.

"Oh, y'all done plenny, but we thought it might be good to see you off."

Wordless, Amber held out a package wrapped in brown paper and twine. D stared at it without taking it.

"Well, go on, it ain't gonna bite!" Ruby snapped.

Since D still hadn't moved, Adrian held their hands out to accept the gift. Their eyes widened slightly as their arms dipped under the unexpected weight. With barely contained curiosity, they untied the twine and peeled the paper back to reveal a stack of smooth, dark stones.

D tilted his head, eyes narrowed. "Whestones?"

Thumbing the strap of her rifle, Ruby nodded. "Since you two aren't gettin' with the times, figured you could make better use of 'em."

"Thank you." Adrian rewrapped the stones carefully. "These will be very useful, I'm sure."

"Good! Now get, and try not to die."

Still not saying goodbye, D turned and walked to the horses. Only Adrian saw the faint curl of his lips.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Adrian said, "Is that what it takes to get anything out of you? Rocks?"

"Do you know how to use one?"

"I'm not stupid."

Saying nothing, D secured Adrian's saddlebags and sleeping bag behind their saddle, then made a thorough check of the saddle straps and bridles. He made no move to split the supplies between the two horses, as if it bothered him not at all that he could be left stranded with nothing.

After he finished, Adrian folded their arms, leaning against the side of their horse. "There now, we're done with this podunk town, right?"

"Yes."

Smiling, Adrian saluted Talus City, then floated up onto the back of their horse. D tucked his chin and pulled his hat low to hide the roll of his eyes. Then he, too, mounted up.

They set out east, leaving the desert behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for D's horse was a Black Percheron ([seen here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b9cMHfjocDc)) and Alucard's is an Akhal-Teke ([seen here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z1trIVRdf3A) and bonus [photo for size](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akhal-Teke#/media/File:Akhal_Teke_Stallion_-_Samovar_\(his_color_is_Perlino\).jpg).).
> 
> As always, imagine whatever you like, just as long as you know D went and got the most ridiculously big monster he could find, while Alucard is cruising along on a tiny slender fashion horse.


	14. faces without names

The road going east from Talus City wound its way along the edges of the forest and up into the craggy, arid hills beyond. The wind howled through the trees and then out over the hills, stirring up dust devils. The horses' hooves kicked up little clouds of dust with every step.

D dragged his scarf up over his nose and hunched down into his coat with his eyes squinted. They had to ride slow because of Adrian's inexperience in the first place, but as the dust devils grew in number and strength, their pace slowed to a walk.

The sun bearing down on them helped matters not at all. Sweat trickled down D's back and made his clothes stick unpleasantly. Breathing became quite difficult behind his scarf as his lungs began to feel pinched.

He did not know how long he slept in his grave but doubted it was enough. He never had enough time to spare for a full recovery. The presence of the parasite always allowed him to ignore his body's weaknesses. Not anymore.

That lack was felt in other ways, too. Without that nagging voice in the back of his head, he could only rely on battered, worn down sign posts to show him the way to the next town. Signs constructed by humans long dead could not tell him if the Sacred Ancestor had ever come that way.

At least Adrian kept any complaints to themself. Even with their ability to float, they had to be suffering new rider pains. Yet, whenever D looked back, they sat as ramrod straight as ever, watching him from behind those ruby shades.

They rode on all through the rest of the long, hot afternoon, and into the evening. Were he alone, D would have pressed on through the night, too.

Since he was not, D pulled up in the shelter of a boulder jutting out in the lee of a hill. He dismounted and secured both horses' leads to the stone with a bent silver needle. It gave them enough headway to graze at the prickly brown grass at the base of the stone.

Adrian slid out of their saddle with a stiff lack of grace and a pained expression on their face. D turned his face away to feign ignorance of their plight.

As Adrian wobbled away to stretch their legs, D removed the saddles from the horses and rubbed them down, making a thorough check of their mechanical parts. Dust caked the joints, necessitating the careful use of another needle to pick the worst of it out.

He needed to reprogram Adrian's horse still, but the wind was a steady whine in the background. Exposing delicate circuit boards and wires to that much dust would be foolish. It would have to wait.

By the time Adrian wobbled back, D had finished his minor maintenance. He lay on his back with his head pillowed against his saddle, his hat tilted down to cover his face, and his sword cradled against his stomach.

"You're not even going to eat?" Adrian asked.

"No need."

He heard an exasperated sigh, then the rustle of Adrian digging through their saddle bags. The rations they'd purchased were a variety of dried and freeze dried goods, packaged in silver foil. Most of it was designed to be cooked with the addition of water. D smelled spicy meat and knew without looking that Adrian had decided to forgo cooking in favor of chewing their way through some jerky.

The smell grew stronger as Adrian leaned towards him. "You should eat."

A piece appeared beneath the brim of D's hat, held between forefinger and thumb, as if in offer to a strange dog.

"Don't need to," D insisted.

"Yes, because collapsing just a few days ago speaks well of your ability to take care of yourself." The piece of jerky wagged back and forth. " _Eat_."

D pushed his hat back with the tips of his fingers. He took the strip of jerky but not without leveling the coldest stare at the other dhampir. As he bit into it, he imagined biting their hand.

They did not seem bothered. Just the opposite, in fact. Smirking, Adrian met his gaze, popping a piece of meat into their mouth to chew slowly.

Of course, eating only one piece of jerky could not satisfy them. D suffered through three or for more pieces before rolling away and refusing to be further badgered into compliance.

The wind died down while he slept. D woke suddenly while it was still dark and cold out, with sunrise many hours away.

He could hear the far off sounds of coyotes yipping to torment their prey. Insects chirped and droned until the rare nocturnal bird startled them into silence with a high call. One of the horses whickered and flicked their tail. Adrian breathed, deep and even, undisturbed by the sounds of the night.

D listened to all of this, unmoving, as he got his bearings. He pushed his hat up to peer up at the sky. Stars twinkled down at him, ringed by dark clouds.

Suddenly, he remembered the area had a rainy season which would last many months. The whole landscape might vanish underwater if the rains were heavy enough. He couldn't help but wonder if Talus City would survive it. Their drainage system was probably ruined from the repeated earthquakes.

Not his problem, he decided.

Standing, D hauled his saddle up onto his horse's back, swiftly securing it. Then he moved to kneel by Adrian, touching their shoulder.

Gold eyes snapped open, pupils blown wide. Adrian's hand flew to the hilt of their sword. For a split second, they seemed not to recognize D. Then they did, exhaling quietly as they dropped their hand away and sat up.

"Time to go already?" Their voice sounded even more whispery and hoarse when fogged with sleep.

By way of answer, D grabbed their saddle and went to put it on their horse. He pulled the bent needle from the rock, pocketed it, and tied their horse's lead to his saddle horn again. Then he mounted up and waited until Adrian did the same.

With nothing but weak starlight to guide them, they rode on through the night.

Hours later, just as the sky began to lighten, D spotted an orange speck up in the hills. As they neared, the speck became a dwindling fire atop an outlook tower leaning crookedly on spindly metal legs. He guided his horse onto the narrow, winding road that would take them right past it.

A corpse hung over one of the railings. Aside from the crackle of the fire and the plip-plop of blood trailing down one of the corpse's arms to splash into the puddle below, there were no other sounds.

D would have ridden right on by except Adrian said, "Wait... Is that--? D, we have to stop."

Sighing, he pulled on his horse's reins. "It's already too late."

"We have to _check_."

Adrian launched from their saddle, flying upwards to land on the railing next to the corpse. The whole tower gave an ominous groan at the added weight.

A pungent odor wafted from the blood on the ground. D backed the horses a safe distance away and dismounted to tie them to a droopy tree with massive, gnarled roots wrapped around a pair of boulders.

The ground under his boots was solid rock until he walked closer to the tower. There, it became fine, sandy grit, occasionally broken up by chunks of gravel. One of the tower's legs was bent from an impact halfway up, but the real reason the structure leaned to one side was because the supports were sinking into the sand.

Adrian vanished inside the tower. D heard a faint hissing noise, like air released from a can, then the fire went out.

A moment later, Adrian reappeared. "These people... they're all dead. It looks like spit. Acid?"

"Adrian." D scraped his boot through the sand in a wide, curving arc.

"We could bury them. Alert someone. Something."

"We need to go."

Jumping down from the tower, Adrian landed in front of D, right on the line in the sand. They tilted their head as they studied D with narrowed eyes. Tense, but not angry. "Do you not care?"

"No."

Before Adrian could say anything else, the ground trembled.

Something huge stirred beneath the sand, flinging it up in a line as it burrowed towards them. D grabbed Adrian's wrist, yanked them against his side, and jumped back right as the thing burst from the ground.

Short and fat, it resembled a spiny maggot but as big as a horse. Huge, bony jaws split open four ways to reveal a round mouthful of teeth that seemed to go all the way down the thing's throat. Acidic spittle dripped from its maw, burning holes in the sand.

The sound it made was so piercing that D's landing was not as graceful as it should have been--he stumbled to one knee and Adrian spilled onto the ground next to him. They both scrambled to their feet in an instant.

The call drew other worms up from the ground. Two more burst out to the dhampirs' left, and another appeared behind them, cutting them off from the horses.

The horses reared up, screaming and kicking. They fought against their leads, which shook the tree hard enough to knock branches and leaves down. Some of the roots began to peel away from the rocks.

Adrian drew their sword, flipped it along the back of their hand, and caught it with a flourish that ended with the blade held level to their cheek. "Is all of the Frontier going to be like this?"

D loosened his sword in its scabbard. "Naturally."

The first worm dived back down underground and became a bumpy line of flying sand as it sped towards them. He jumped forward, drawing his sword, and stabbed downwards right as the worm resurfaced. Their opposite momentum meant that his sword cut a line through the worm's back. The worm gurgled and slammed into a halt right in front of Adrian. Thick, sticky ichor spilled out, steaming in the cool night air.

D landed on the other side and flicked his sword to get the acidic gore off the blade.

"Naturally, he says," Adrian grumbled.

"Don't let the viscera touch you."

"I surmised as much."

Meanwhile, the other three worms dove down. One circled wide while the other two made a beeline for the two dhampirs.

Adrian spun on his heel, then kicked off to float in the air. The worm that had spooked the horses lunged up from the sand, its fat body wriggling as if to gain more altitude by sheer will. Adrian's sword flashed out. It cut under the jaw and then cut at a diagonal curve all the way down the worm's body.

The worm collapsed in a heap of gore. Adrian and their sword continued to float, unharmed.

D sidestepped the third one. He threw his cloak off to disorient it. The worm slammed into the cloak and landed heavily atop the sand, thrashing. D stabbed it quickly, then snagged his cloak.

The fourth worm flew out at D's back, its jaws wide. D dropped to one knee and raised his sword. The point cut through the worm's soft, squishy underbelly from jaw to tail. Innards spilled out over D and the sand as the rest of the worm crashed into the last surviving worm. The creatures were not immune to the high acid content of their insides, and so the third worm began to scream as it melted.

Quickly, D retreated to a clean patch of sand to rub the acid off. It ate holes in the outer layers of his clothes and skin. Muscle and bone on his hands and face were exposed to the elements. D grit his teeth against the blinding pain. His breath went ragged as his body scrambled to regrow what was lost.

Adrian touched down on the sand near D, catching and sheathing their sword. "Eugh, you stink. At least you won't have freckles after."

D rolled his eyes up to squint blearily at Adrian. He couldn't help the undignified snort, even if it hurt.

"Do you need to feed?"

"...Need to leave," D rasped. "More will come."

With some effort, he pushed himself to his feet. His hand was not steady as he sheathed his sword. Nor were his steps as he headed for the horses. Adrian hovered at his elbow, eyes sharp.

Somehow, the horses had got their leads hopelessly tangled up in the tree's roots. The tree itself listed to the side, ready to collapse and drag the beasts with it. Both horses tossed their heads and stomped, still skittish and trying to break free.

D grabbed his horse by the bridle to still it. Adrian beat him to the punch of trying to get them loose by way of expertly cutting through the roots with a quick flash of their sword.

Mounting up, D squeezed his knees against the sides of his horse. He held the reins tight and murmured softly at it until its nerves eased. There was no reasoning with Adrian's. It kept pulling at the lead and balking. Any time Adrian came near, it started to rear or kick.

Wordless, D held his hand out. His fingers and palm were still red but the peeled away layers had mostly healed. Adrian grabbed on and hauled themself up onto the saddle in front of D.

"Hold your horse's lead," D instructed. "It might try to bolt."

"Understood."

Adrian gripped the saddle horn in one hand, holding down the lead knotted there, and for extra precaution, they wrapped the lead around their other hand.

D kicked his horse, guiding it around the edges of the worm-made sand. As soon as they made it to solid ground, he let it go as fast as it liked. Or rather, as fast as it could. Adrian's horse fought the first several hundred feet, always trying to veer off to the side. Once it realized that it was easier to run with the bigger horse, it fell in line.

They galloped east and left the tower far behind. Ahead of them, the sun began its slow climb, lightening the sky the streaks of color.

The horses slowed to a canter, then a trot once they'd run the worst of their fear out. Their heavy breathing soon evened out. Neither one showed signs of being overworked--a little lather, but no groaning of machinery, no frothing at the mouth, no blood, no staggering.

After ensuring that his horse was on the road and going to stay there, D tucked his chin and closed his eyes. He only opened them on occasion to check their bearings.

The presence of someone else in his saddle was strange but necessity overrode discomfort. It was blatantly obvious that Adrian was unused to riding. They kept shifting and bumping against D, tensing, and pulling away. The urge to push and pull at them until they sat still was strong but D kept his hands to himself.

"How long until the next town?" Adrian asked, as they passed a sign too battered to read.

D scanned the horizon while squinting against the sun's glare. "A watch tower would only be five or ten miles out." He twisted in the saddle and braced one hand against the horse's rump. They'd ridden far enough that the crooked tower was little more than a speck in the distance. "By now, we should've seen another or the town."

"And yet, nothing..."

That it did not bode well did not bear commenting on.

Twisting back around in the saddle, D pulled at the reins. The horse slowed to a walk and then a gradual stop. Adrian's tried to go on a little further but balked at the pull on its lead. It danced in place, pawing at the ground.

D slid from the saddle. "We should find somewhere to make camp."

"Already?"

"Yes."

Dismounting, Adrian dusted their pants off. "Are you going to tell me why, or is this going to be another one of those mysterious things you refuse to talk about?"

As D took his horse by the reins to lead it off the road, he gave serious thought to not answering. Adrian sighed loudly as they followed him.

Picking his way between large, pale rocks that glittered in the sun, D said, "Either we've gone far off course and missed the town so we should wait for sundown to continue on to the next..."

He fell silent as the rocks became more numerous and the ground slanted down. They entered a small gorge, at the bottom of which lay a shallow trickle of water that couldn't rightfully be called a stream. The walls and the ground were all made of the same pale stone.

"...Or?" Adrian prompted.

"Or there's more sand worms, the town's been devoured, and we'll never outrun them."

"Oh, charming."

"They'll react to vibration."

"How tragic, I was hoping to practice my dancing."

The sound of Adrian's footsteps stopped as they floated an inch or two off the ground. A shame they seemingly couldn't do the same for the horses.

The best D could do was secure them to one wall, in the shade. He popped open his horse's skull plate, revealing a tiny panel. Extending his pinkie nail until it resembled a claw, he used the tip to gently depress an inset button in the corner of the panel. The horse's breathing slowed as its mechanical parts entered standby mode.

"Why _are_ some horses machines, now?" Adrian asked.

"Efficiency."

D shut the panel and stepped over to Adrian's horse to repeat the procedure. Once the pale horse stopped fidgeting, he pried the panel up entirely so he could study the circuit boards beneath.

"We used to have cars, when I slept." Adrian leaned against the rocky wall nearby, no longer floating. They fiddled with their sunglasses. "I hated them but loved mine."

"There are cars."

"Why don't you use them, then?"

"Roads, night creatures, fuel shortages."

"I see." Adrian hummed, thoughtful. "Is there a trick to getting you to answer my questions?"

Deciding Q&A time was over, D didn't say anything else.

He frowned in concentration over the horse's exposed mechanical brain. With the use of a pair of silver needles, he performed the delicate operation needed to tone down its skittish nature. Unfortunately, doing so increased the risk that the horse wouldn't react when endangered but it was either that or dealing with a novice rider constantly at risk of being thrown.

While D worked, Adrian proved they were at least capable of removing saddles without instruction. After washing up at the stream, they set up a makeshift camp against the wall, laying out their sleeping bag, a canteen and two cups, and a packet of granola. Without wood to make a fire, they still couldn't cook any of the freeze dried meals.

Of course, the second D finished up and came over to sit, Adrian thrust a chunk of granola and a cup of water at him. D looked at it then at Adrian.

"Stop being childish and eat without a fuss."

"I really don't need it," D said, but he took what he was given anyway.

"Sure, that's why your skin is gray."

"And yours is any better?"

"I can pass for a human."

Carefully, D set the piece of granola on his thigh and the cup of water on the ground between his legs. He said nothing and continued to say nothing as he retrieved two plasma capsules from his belt pouch. His silence lasted until after Adrian accepted one of the capsules and his own capsule was well dissolved.

"That's what you think," he said, and then downed his cup in one go. "Humans don't come in ceramic."

"Eat your granola, you stone-faced bastard."

D ate the granola.


	15. playing devils

The early morning hours crept by.

D spent them with his head resting against his saddle, hat over his face, arms folded over his sheathed sword. He dozed lightly. Adrian lay on their side atop their sleeping bag, head pillowed on their arm. Their back was to D so he could not tell if they slept or not.

Occasionally, there came the distant sounds of animals in distress. Birds, mostly--cawing as they took off to get away from whatever spooked them. Once or twice, D heard the lowing of some beast that cut off abruptly.

The earth trembled now and then, too. The vibrations would come very near to the rocky gorge, then veer away again.

It confirmed D's suspicions about being in sand worm territory.

Sand worms such as these were notorious for scouring a section of land until it was bereft of any life they could catch and they'd churned the whole landscape to sandy grit. They would move on after that, though D couldn't begin to guess when that would be.

He pushed the edge of his hat up with the tip of his thumb so he could eye the sky. As noon neared, the shadows in the gorge dwindled, leaving only enough room to shade his head and shoulders. The rest of him lay stretched out on rock that warmed quickly and soaked right into his black clothing.

Even with a source of water nearby, it would be a long, miserable stay if they were to be trapped in the gorge for more than a day. He wouldn't even be able to dig a grave to sleep in, not when the rocks were the only thing keeping the worms at bay.

Adrian sat up. "We should get a tent." They glanced over at D, nose wrinkling. "Two tents, if you're going to keep rolling around in filth."

"Do you also want to lug around a bathtub?"

"If the world hadn't gone _backwards_ , we wouldn't need to."

Knowing it to be true, D said flatly, "Is that so."

"We could have driven between one town in the next in a couple hours, stayed at a hotel with all the amenities."

"Hmm." D closed his eyes, dark lashes fanned out against his cheeks. "Had the rule of the Nobility not declined, maybe they would've established instant teleportation."

"Really?"

"And humans would all be less than cattle, strung up in machines to produce an endless supply of blood."

"...Oh."

Neither said anything else for a long time.

Adrian broke the silence first by rising to their knees and dropping their hand to the hilt of their sword. "What was that?"

Propping himself up on his elbow, D tipped his head to the side, listening. He heard nothing out of the ordinary at first.

"There, it's getting louder." Adrian held a finger up, frowning.

At the very limits of D's hearing, there was a quiet, high pitched noise. It grew in volume as whatever made it came closer. The ground vibrated with growing intensity and soon became a full on earthquake that cracked their rocky shelter and sent debris tumbling down.

D drew his legs up against his body and tucked himself against the wall. Adrian did the same. The horses did nothing, for they were still in standby mode. D's did not even react when a rock bounced off its hindquarters.

The sound cut off suddenly. So too did the quake.

"Cover your--" D started to say.

A flash of white light in the south blinded him. A split second later, a sonic boom rent the air. The sheer roar of noise going outwards from the strike point threw out gale winds that sliced through everything. Trees, grass, rocks, and more disintegrated as the wall of destruction blew outwards. The top half of the gorge was ripped apart, rendered into fine sand.

D felt his eardrums burst. Blood poured down the sides of his neck as his ears rang and a mix of vertigo and pain washed over him. Hunching with his eyes squinted shut, he grit his teeth and bore through it until his body's supernatural regeneration caught up. Parts of his vision returned first, sparking at the edges.

Adrian was not so unmoved; they collapsed and curled in on themself. D couldn't tell if they were screaming or not but their mouth hung open, face screwed up in clear pain.

In the aftermath, a dark shadow fell over the landscape.

Groggily, D lifted his head. His vision still swam, slowly focusing on the all too familiar silhouette to the south. He blinked, and blinked again, and his vision cleared little by little.

The castle.

The ringing in his ears continued even after his body mended itself. The vertigo persisted, too. D got up unsteadily. He could just make out Adrian's ragged breathing, broken up by wet, retching coughs. Not screaming, then, but not going anywhere any time soon.

D put his hand against the wall of the gorge and staggered his way down to the southern end of it. There, he could see the landscape flattened out for miles in every direction surrounding the castle.

Stinking corpses of worms littered the newly reshaped land. They seemed to have been pushed up from underground before bursting like pustules. Their acidic innards steamed and melted away, leaving craters in the earth. The smell of it was foul enough to turn D's stomach.

The silhouette of the castle shimmered. D blinked and swiped the heel of his palm against his eyes to scrub away the moisture. For a second, he thought he was seeing a mirage caused by heat waves but it was not hot enough out for that.

Because of the ringing in his ears, he didn't notice the growing whine in the air until it reached a painful volume. The castle twitched out of shape and back again. A thin, hazy aura glowed around it, becoming brighter by the second.

Eyes widening a fraction, D scrambled back into the gorge.

The castle vanished with another blinding flash of sheer white light. The sonic boom followed moments later.

D's eardrums burst a second time and he tumbled head over heels, clouds of dust and debris billowing around him. He landed hard on his side and made no move to get back up. Once again, he surrendered to disorienting pain, two of his senses cut off.

The ground shook and more of the gorge collapsed in on itself. Somehow, none of the falling rocks hit either dhampir or their horses.

When D's body finished healing again and his vision and hearing filtered back to normal piece by piece, he opened his eyes and sat up.

A new shadow fell over them. D lifted his gaze to find a gigantic, blobby shape blotting out the sun. A worm, far bigger than any D had ever seen before. It thrashed, jaws as big as a house opening and closing. Thousands of wounds gored its thick hide so that it flung globules of acidic blood every which way. Some of it splashed against the broken rocks overhead and dripped down the walls.

D shoved himself to his feet and rushed over to bodily haul Adrian to safety. Then he picked up the horses one at a time to carry them away from the walls. He narrowly managed to drag their saddles out of the way just before more ichor splashed down. Adrian's sleeping bag melted in seconds.

They needed to make their escape while the worm was incapacitated.

Quickly, D saddled the horses. Then he threw Adrian up onto the back of theirs. He leaned away from their weak swat, unmoved by their pathetic groan, and then caught them by the wrists.

"We have to go."

The only answer Adrian gave was another groan. They listed to the side, unable to stay mounted on their own, so D got some rope from their bags to secure their wrists to the saddle horn.

Next, he brought both horses out of standby mode. The beasts staggered through their first few steps as he led them up out of the gorge, heading north away from the worm, but soon recovered.

D mounted up, tied Adrian's reins to his saddle horn, and kicked his horse into a gallop. Using his knees to grip the sides of his horse, he stood and leaned forward, skillfully tilting his body in time with the horse's movements. He raced between the craters left behind by dead worms, faster and faster. The horses practically flew across the mostly flat landscape.

The giant worm let out a scream as it recovered. The earth shook again when it leapt and burrowed back down.

As the only living things left for miles, D knew the worm would come after them soon. He snapped his reins, pushing the horses harder. Their servos began to screech and spark as they neared the limits of their speed.

The ground started to break apart off to the left. Huge cracks split the earth, zigging and zagging faster than the horses. D leaned hard to the right and the horses swerved away.

A second later, the giant worm exploded up from the earth. The thing's shadow drowned them in darkness for a few horrible moments. Yet, its injuries threw its trajectory off: its massive, flabby body flailed through the air, streaming ichor. It crashed into the earth with a horrible squelch, hard enough to shake the whole world to pieces.

D's horse stumbled and screamed as it fell. He threw himself from its back. Soaring through the air for several more feet, he grabbed the edges of his cape. The cloth flared outwards, then billowed as it slowed his fall. He landed in a crouch just as his horse skidded to a stop behind him.

Adrian's horse jumped over D's and tried to run on. It lurched to a sudden stop when it reached the end of its tether, still secured to the saddle horn. On its back, Adrian's body snapped forward and back, then slumped over. Adrian groaned, face scrunched up beneath the messy tangle of their hair.

The worm flailed in a lake of its own blood, crying its last.

The acid in its blood boiled through the earth and the corpse sank down into the depths. Noxious clouds of smoke rose up, darkening the sky and filling the air with a stench so foul that it made D's eyes water and even the horses began to wheeze.

"What-- eugh, _is_ that," Adrian croaked.

They pulled at the ropes securing their wrists, easily breaking them, and all but fell from their saddle. With caked blood running down the sides of their jaw and neck and tears streaming down their filthy cheeks, they looked a right horror. The skin beneath all the grit was patchy and turning pinkish red.

D barely spared them a glance. He swiftly moved around his horse and shoved his shoulder up against its side to help it stand up. A quick check confirmed that it somehow managed not to break anything. One of its front legs had a nasty dent, as did the metal plating on the shoulder and neck on the same side.

Slow and careful, he walked it a few steps. It limped but not badly.

The risk of doing greater damage by riding it in that condition was too great. D switched the leads around so that his horse was the one that would follow. Adrian's little horse might not reliably support both their weight for long but...

D looked out across the landscape. He could sense nothing else that might pose an immediate threat. For now, he would have to walk, preserving the horse's stamina for emergencies.

Not being needled about his poor luck felt wrong, still.

"The castle appeared."

"That... explains it." Adrian rubbed at the side of their face to scrub away bits of crusty blood. "Shouldn't be too difficult following its trail."

The smoke in the sky was beginning to sink back down in the form of ashes. The smell worsened as the ashes draped over everything. Whatever it touched sizzled like an ember dropped in water. Getting it on bare flesh stung worse than a fire ant bite.

Watching Adrian recoil and shake their hand out, D said, "Don't breathe it in." He pulled his scarf up over his nose.

"If it's always going to be like this, I want to add gas masks to our shopping list."

"Hn. Your castle disrupts everything."

"It always does..."

Adrian pulled their hat from where it hung against their back, put it on, and pulled the brim low. Then they withdrew a handkerchief from their pocket and tied it around their face.

D studied the sky, which grew darker still. "We need to go."

"This is a _miserable_ future."

"Get back on your horse. Now."

Glaring and huffing, Adrian nevertheless did what they were told. Despite their apparent recovery from their injuries, they slumped in the saddle.

Complications from their sun allergy would probably kill them. The castle and the worms destroyed any prospect of shelter. There would be no food left and any water sources would be tainted by the toxins in the air. Their only respite would be nightfall, still hours away.

D took the horse by the lead and started walking.

"You're not going to ride?" Adrian asked.

"My horse is injured and yours is small. Best not."

Adrian twisted in their saddle. "Poor thing. You won't have to put it down, will you?"

"No."

"We've not had them for a day and you've already broken them..." Adrian tsked as they patted at the side of his horse's neck. "I assume you mean to fix them, but _where_? There's nothing out here anymore."

"We'll find somewhere or we won't... but only if we keep moving."

"Very optimistic."

Once he was certain that the injured horse could keep up, D picked up the pace. The horses broke into a trot and D matched them stride for stride.

One of the servos on Adrian's horse made a worrying high-pitched whine every few minutes. His own horse clanked with every step. He felt no better with only thin layers of cloth to protect him from the sun. The poisonous ash burned away the fibers a little at a time, leaving frayed holes.

Glancing back only once, D saw that the horses' synthetic fur was beginning to look patchy. Soon, the ash would melt through their flesh. Perhaps it would eat through metal, too, and get at delicate wiring.

"Adrian."

"Yes?"

"Can you..." Asking stuck in his craw like a bone. D fell silent for several more feet, then spat out, "Put yourself to use, do something about the ashes."

"What shall I do, conjure the wind itself?"

"Exactly."

"Are you--? Hm." Adrian drew their sword and let it fly up into the air. "Mind your nose, I am... rather doomed to freckles, later. If we survive this."

The sword rose up above them, keeping pace. At first, it did nothing else. Then Adrian sighed, and the prickle of unholy power seeped outwards. D did not look back but he imagined their eyes had gained the glow of the blood moon. The blade shimmered and left trails of crimson light in its wake.

Then it began to spin, slow at first, then faster and faster, until it became a blur of silver and red. All around them, a sharp wind kicked up, blowing not only the ashes but the sand and several smaller rocks away.

D slowed the horses down to a walk. He picked their path more carefully, always staying within the eye of the supernatural storm.

They continued on that way for almost an hour.

By then, Adrian's strength faded and they could do little more than occasionally flick the sword. By then, they left the worst of the ashen cloud behind. By then, they reached the edges of the destruction wrought by the castle.

Prickly brown grass, dried out from the sun, crunched under D's boots and the horses' hooves. A few staggered trees littered the landscape here and there. Off to the west, there lay an old, dusty road, cracked from disrepair but still used, if the fresh wagon tracks were any indicator.

"Rest now," he said over his shoulder.

With a weary sigh, Adrian caught their sword and sheathed it. "Tell me you see a town..."

"Not yet."

He found a legible sign along the road. It was a battered, green metal that gleamed hotly in the sun.

Faded white text with an arrow pointing back the way they'd come said _Talus City_. The distance had been scratched out. Below that, the arrows pointed them on. Someone had soldered a piece of engraved scrap metal over whatever the original name had been. Now it said: _Lost Hope_.

Finding that darkly humorous, D could not help but snort.

"What are you snickering at?"

"I'm not."

"...Really."

D set off down the road, walking only a little faster.

After a mile or two, the landscape began to gradually change. More and more trees crowded around the road, their branches bowed to form a kind of arched tunnel providing cover from the sun. Through the trees, D could see the brown, almost barren landscape giving away to bits of green--bushes and weedy grasses that promised ample hiding places for smaller monsters. Beyond that, rolling hills became distant mountains on the horizon.

They had entered into the safely regulated boundaries of a weather controller once more. Or perhaps they had discovered one of the spots that still functioned on one that was failing.

Either way, their prospects at survival had just improved tenfold.

Their destination could not be much further. With so little territory still livable on the Frontier, humans tended not to waste any of it. Even the smallest scrap of farmable land sandwiched between wastelands could be packed end to end with fools making a go of it.

The dirt road reached a fork. Going left, it became a narrower track leading off into the fields and a forest beyond. Curving gently west along the base of a hill covered in wildflowers, the road became tarmac. D chose the latter without hesitation.

While D kept his gaze straight ahead, he heard the creak of Adrian's saddle, then the clack of their bootheels hitting the road. They fell into step next to him, peering around like a sightseeing tourist.

"Well, this doesn't look too bad."

D glanced sidelong. The skin on Adrian's cheeks was red and peeling, their lips cracked. Neither of them were in the best shape, truth be told. Every little breeze tugged at all the frayed, loose threads on their clothing. Knowing his luck, Lost Hope would have no sympathies for monstrous-looking dhampirs shambling into town.

Coming to a stop, D retrieved a water canteen from one of the saddlebags. He thrust it at Adrian.

"Here, do something about your face."

Adrian took the canteen and a sip from it. "Worried about vanity, are you?"

"The more we remind the humans that we're not like them, the less inclined they are to do business with us."

"Oh, is that why you wander the countryside in mourning clothes and grey face?"

D stared a hole through Adrian. It didn't seem to bother them in the least.

They pulled the handkerchief from their neck, poured a little water onto it, and used it to mop away the grime and some of the dried, flaking skin from their face. Each layer of skin peeled away revealed raw, red sores beneath. Adrian hissed as they dabbed at those.

"You heal too slowly," D said.

"From this, with no dinner? Yes, very much so."

"Eat, then."

Tilting their head, Adrian quirked one corner of their lip up to show a fang. "Oh, are you offering?"

"We still have capsules left."

"What are you going to do when you run out?"

"Endure."

Giving D a funny look, all tilted and squinty like looking at him from different angles would make his meaning any more clear, Adrian retreated to rifle through D's saddlebags. They plunked one of the capsules into a tin mug, splashed water on, then downed it.

"Eugh, like drinking pennies." Sighing, they drained the last drops, wiped the mug out, and returned it and the canteen to the bags. "What a joyless existence, without sweet, fresh blood..."

"If you feed on humans, I'll kill you."

The malice in D's words manifested in a heavy, dark aura that made even the horses shy. It bore down on Adrian like a solid weight, forcing them to brace their feet apart to keep from sinking to their knees. Teeth grit, they bore through it, glaring at D.

As soon as D let up, they sucked in a ragged breath, coughing.

"There's... no need for that, asshole!"

Blinking at the profanity, D tipped his head to the side.

"I would never harm, ugh, an innocent." Adrian rolled their shoulders, rubbing at each one at a time to work the knotted tension out. "Whenever it is within my power, I've only drank voluntary offerings."

"That you've likely coerced them into giving."

"No."

Drawing themselves up, spine and shoulders ramrod straight, Adrian glared down their nose. Though several inches shorter than D, they still managed to cut an imposing figure.

"No," they repeated. "My mother was a doctor, and so I learned to help those who needed it, in exchange for donations."

"A doctor that bites patients. I can't imagine how you had any customers."

"I used needles."

"Is that so."

"Yes, you suspicious bastard." Adrian stalked forward, past D, and on down the road. "Since our supplies are in a dreadful state, I will show you, if we find a town in need of a doctor."

D tugged at the horse's lead to get them walking again. "And how do you propose to convince them to give you their blood."

"Find someone in most desperate need, or someone who trusts easily."

"Doesn't sound shady at all, when you put it like that."

Adrian scoffed. "They would need to permit me to do blood work anyway, if I'm to discover what ails them."

Tucking his chin, D frowned at a sign on the side of the road. It suggested they had another mile to go. "How do you intend to carry your ill-gotten gains around, after?"

"Thus far, the landscape doesn't lend itself to the use of a cart." Adrian ran their thumb back and forth against the hilt of their sword. "How are your capsules made?"

"I don't know."

"Can you find out?"

"It would take equipment we don't have."

"Who does?"

"The Nobility."

"Then we should go and parlay with them--"

" _No._ "

Adrian staggered as D's aura whipped outwards. It took some effort to rein it back in, to bottle up the pitch black anger that gnawed at the back of his breast bone. D inhaled sharply, exhaled a little too noisily, and then forced his breathing to even out entirely. Calm, cold, and composed, as if nothing ever happened.

"...I see," Adrian murmured, brushing their hands down their front. "We should continue this discussion later."

Ahead of them, the road came to a stop outside the dark iron spikes of Lost Hope's outer walls. No humans manned the gates but a pair of turrets and various security cameras tracked the dhampirs' movements as they approached.

The rest of the town was hidden behind thick layers of brick walls some ten feet tall, topped by iron and silver spikes. Over that, one could just see the rooftops of the buildings within and little else.

"Charming looking place."

"Be on your best behavior," D said.

"I always am."

D sighed.


	16. and angels

As D approached the gates, the turrets at either side clanked and jolted towards him, spitting sparks from exposed wires. One stuttered to a halt, aiming somewhere off to his right. The other aimed a little too low. Both of them clicked rapidly, their chambers empty.

The security cameras were in a similar state of disrepair. Some had no power at all, others had foggy or cracked lenses. There were some that had been shattered to pieces altogether, leaving nothing but bits of scrap dangling from wires.

Frowning, D pushed at the gates. Though they were not locked, the left one hung on its hinges oddly so that it dragged against the ground with a horrible sound. The right one kept sticking, suggesting that its hinges were rusted over.

Beyond them, the town lay silent and empty. Not a single person walked the streets, nor were there any animals roaming about.

Wealthy towns on the Frontier had no need of things such as chimneys or wood-burning stoves to operate. Instead, they used generators, miniature nuclear reactors, or machinery powered by old fission batteries. None of the buildings emitted the smells and heat waves indicative of such things. It was unlikely anyone living was hiding indoors.

"Well." Adrian walked past D to stand in the middle of the road. "This is a quaint little ghost town."

"On your guard."

D guided the horses down the road. Their hooves echoed off the pavement and bounced down alleyways. Nothing came to investigate the noise. Perhaps the town had been abandoned even by monsters.

Aside from the lack of population, the town looked perfectly ordinary, if a little rundown. It seemed like everyone left all at once, not too long ago.

The houses had dirty windows and a few looked like they needed roof or siding repairs done, but otherwise they appeared to be in good shape. The same could be said of the carts and cars on the sides of the roads. A few tires going flat, a thin layer of dust covering everything, but otherwise still salvageable.

The gardens attached to the houses had only just begun to become unruly. Climbing vines covered the fences, grass grew waist high, and anything that bore fruit hung fat and heavy under the weight of it all.

Adrian strayed to pull a few apples from a tree whose branches hung out over the street. Most of the fruit was overripe and squishy. After discarding a few, Adrian found a couple worth keeping and came back to offer one to D.

D took the apple only because he was becoming accustomed to Adrian's brand of insistent fussing. He held it without eating it, continuing to walk on.

Crunching on their own apple, Adrian hummed. The juice dribbled down their chin. "Mmf, well, we won't go hungry, if we can find more like this..."

"Could be poison."

"I won't die, if it is."

"How can you be sure, after sleeping so long?"

That gave Adrian pause. They stopped walking, head tilted, and squinted at the apple. D slowed as well to study them out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, well, I might as well go out like a prince in a fairy tale." Adrian bit into the apple, chewed, and swallowed. "If your Sacred Ancestor is strong enough to survive without the castle, this quest isn't likely to have a good ending."

"Can it be stopped?"

"The castle?"

D inclined his head.

"While it's making jumps, it destroys everything around it." Adrian wiped some of the apple's juice from their chin and neck with the back of their sleeve. "After about three, it will have to stop and recharge."

"How far can it jump at once?"

"Anywhere from fifty to two hundred miles."

Though he could travel a great distance in a single day, not even D could manage six hundred miles. At best, the average cyborg horse might manage a little over a hundred in a day. The castle could elude them forever.

However...

"It doesn't know where to go."

Adrian nodded. "Right. It will be searching."

"Can you predict the pattern?"

"A grid," Adrian answered, instantly. "Most likely, it will make smaller jumps and stay within a certain radius of its origin point until it has fully searched the area." They chucked their apple core into a metal trash bin some ten feet away. "If we've seen it once, we may see it again before it moves on."

Satisfied that the task wasn't impossible, D nodded and resumed walking.

"There, you see how easy that was? The flow of information benefits us both, so there's no need to be a stubborn ass."

D pretended not to hear that.

The main street curved gently northwest. The residential district gave away to buildings clustered around a small marketplace square. They passed empty storefronts with advertisements faded by the sun in the windows, partially constructed streetside stalls that had canvas awnings and flags flopping limply in the breeze, and various carts and trucks still loaded with boxes and barrels.

Beyond that lay various municipal buildings such as the courthouse, jail, and town hall. Even further out lay overgrown farms. All of it lay within the safety of walls that seemed unbroken and topped by turrets and cameras every few feet.

D found no clues for why the town had been abandoned, but he did find a stable and workshop on one of the side streets behind the town jail. He led the horses inside and put them in one of the larger empty stalls.

Drawing a small knife from his belt, he cut the apple in half. He offered a piece to Adrian's horse. It snatched the fruit up eagerly. His own horse took the fruit a little more slowly but nosed at his hand for more after. It boded well that they still had healthy appetites.

D left the stall to make a cursory check of the place. There was no feed or straw but the attached workshop contained all of the tools he could ever need under a thin layer of dust.

A back room contained shelves of spare parts, some of them still in their boxes, unopened. Near one wall, a hatch revealed a small cold storage beneath the floor. Most of its contents were long expired but a slim metal cryo box held drip pouches full of essential nutrients.

Lingering in the open doorway, Adrian asked, "How long are we staying here?"

"Long enough for repairs."

"Then I'm going to look for supplies."

A small bubble of some acidic feeling bubbled up inside D's chest, too unfamiliar to name. Feigning indifference, he picked up a kit of screwdrivers to inspect it. "Do what you want."

"I planned on it."

After Adrian left, D shed his hat, sword, and cape, leaving them in a neat pile near the stalls. Using a piece of twine, he gathered his hair back into a loose tail to keep it out of his face.

Then he dragged a rolling tray from behind a heap of junk parts. It listed to the left and its wheel squeaked. He piled the tray high with various tools and parts he might need, including the cryo box, then rolled it over to the stall.

The larger horse watched him with sleepy indifference, though it leaned heavily against the wall as it favored its injured leg. The smaller one tossed its head and pawed at the ground as he neared.

With no one to see him do it, D murmured soothingly at the smaller horse. He stroked its nose, then up over its head, seeking out the mechanism to put it to sleep. Its head drooped down as its eyes went glassy. D patted it once more, then moved to put the other horse into standby mode as well.

That done, D picked up a paper packet, slicing it open with his thumb claw. It contained a coil of transparent tubing, a couple of needle caps, some tape strips, and a couple of disinfectant wipes, all in separate packaging. He went over everything carefully to ensure that there were no rips, holes, or rust. Once satisfied, he used a disinfectant wipe on one of the needle caps, then attached it to the end of tubing.

Older models of cyborg horses took their IV drips the traditional way, intravenously through flesh. Luckily for D, these were newer. They each had a panel on the side of their necks that slid back to reveal a slot for injections. He inserted the needle into the slot on his own horse first, then got another packet for Adrian's.

Within just a few minutes, he had both hooked up to nutrient bags hung on hooks above their heads. Even after he rubbed the bags vigorously to activate the thawing arrays, it would take a few minutes for the contents to fully thaw and begin dripping properly. Delicate machinery just inside the intravenous slots would further warm the liquid up before allowing it to pass into the horses' veins.

D flicked the screwdriver kit open and ran his fingertips along the tools while frowning over at his horse's damaged leg. It looked like he would need three different sizes, plus an allen wrench. Potentially more, if he wanted to be sure of getting the limb off without bending the metal by applying too much force.

But first, he needed to ensure that the horse would not fall over after he removed its leg.

Above the stalls, a chain pulley system hung from a sliding track, allowing one to move it from stall to stall as needed. It was rusted over and would not budge until D climbed up there to knock it loose with the back of his fist.

Then he had to go find a canvas sling to hang from the chains. Most of the ones lying around were frayed or torn. He found what he needed wedged at the very top of a shelf in the back room, pinned down by a heavy torso carapace. Shaking it out, he coughed, eyes squinted.

The lack of a mocking hoarse voice struck him then. D went still with the canvas held up and spread before him. There were no sounds at all but the faint thump of his heart and the distant, slow breathing of the horses.

His left palm itched, a phantom sensation. He dropped a corner of the canvas so that he could stare at his hand, as if willing the damned ugly face to come pushing out of his skin.

It did not.

He was wasting time.

With a quiet, annoyed huff at himself, D stalked over to attach the sling to the chains, looping it up under his horse's belly. He was less than gentle about making adjustments. The horse couldn't react even if it noticed.

Nor could it as he sped through unscrewing all the layers of plate that protected the complicated machinery that made up its joints and muscles. It remained docile and all but lifeless when he separated cables and locking mechanisms, prying the limb off entirely.

The worst damage seemed to be external. For the inner workings, D needed only to replace a few electrical wires and straighten out some of the bent coils. The horse was so large that he had to solder several pieces together to make a new custom fit casing. It would not be pretty but it would get the job done.

The task of rebuilding the leg kept D from thinking too much about anything else.

By the time Adrian came back, D was almost finished.

He used a pair of large tweezers to tweak at a tendon coil at the top of the leg, where it would attach to the shoulder. This made the leg bend at the elbow. The motion was nice and smooth and nothing scraped or clanked together.

"D."

D glanced over.

Adrian stood a foot or so away, staring at the leg. "Why _do_ the horses have detachable limbs?"

"They're cyborgs."

"That explains nothing, thank you for continuing to be disappointingly unhelpful."

Shrugging the slightest amount, D set his tools aside. "Did you find anything?"

"Plenty. The whole town is well and truly abandoned. If you like your supplies potentially cursed or booby trapped, then we won't want for anything."

"Did you find any signs of what happened here?"

"Nothing." Adrian lifted both shoulders and swept one hand before them with their palm upturned. "Of course, there's always the chance that I've overlooked something, since I'm a stranger in strange times."

D glanced sidelong at Adrian. They narrowed their eyes at him, mouth thin and drawn down. Indifferent, D knelt to reattach the leg to his horse.

Curiosity brought Adrian closer. Their shadow fell over D, doing little to impede his ability to see. Nor did they crowd so close as to prevent him from working. He saw no reason to object, though he had no intention of explaining anything if asked.

Adrian did not ask.

The limb clicked as all the gears snapped into place. D gripped the forearm and cannon to flex the limb a few times, ensuring that everything was correctly attached.

Standing, D made a cursory check of the rest of the horse's body. It would need some more minor repairs and tuneups. The entire shoulder casing connected to the newly salvaged leg probably needed rebuilding and hammering out. There was potential damage to the withers and the other legs.

All told, repairing his horse might take him the rest of the day and well into the night. He still had Adrian's horse to contend with afterwards--it still needed a proper reprogramming, on top of everything else.

D frowned, tongue tucked against the back of one fang. Aware that Adrian still watched him, he schooled his face into blankness.

"We may be here for a day or two."

"Fine with me." Adrian backed away to gaze out the front doors. "We should take the time to pillage some of those cursed supplies."

"You can handle it."

"I'd rather not blunder my way through abandoned death traps with no one watching my back."

D tilted his head. "What makes you think there's any danger?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just that the town hall is littered with blinking red lights."

"Ah."

That only raised more questions about what happened to the town.

Adrian had a point, though. It would be extremely foolish to send someone not familiar with modern traps to forage alone.

Sighing, D donned his cape and hat. "Let's go."

He carried his sheathed sword in his left hand as he ventured outside. Late afternoon sun warmed the pavement. Soon, daylight would begin to dwindle away, leaving the town in cast in the weird gloom of twilight. Where nothing happened during daylight hours, perhaps something might come creeping out with the dark of night.

Adrian hurried to get a step ahead of him, taking the lead. "Before anything else, there's an interesting vehicle behind town hall."

"We won't be using it."

"No, but its contents might prove useful. To me, anyway, I don't know about you. You seem to despise knowledge."

"I don't."

"Then you despise the sharing of it."

"I'm not a teacher."

"You're a miser leaving everyone in your dust, is what you are."

As they bickered, they walked up main street. Adrian veered off to the right, giving the entire perimeter of the town hall's property a wide berth.

Even from afar, D could see the slow blink of orange lights through the dirty windows. The specific pattern and shade of orange told him that they were EMs, a type of mine that emitted an electromagnetic explosion on triggering. Whoever laid them had been concerned about the mechanical more than the organic.

Behind town hall, sitting on eight flat tires in the middle of overgrown grass, was a heavy duty beige caravan truck. Thick bars protected shatterproof windows. A pair of 180 degree machine guns jutted from the sides and a couple of skylights on the top allowed passengers to climb onto the roof for further defense.

The reason Adrian had any interest in such an ugly heap of metal became readily apparent on reading the words painted across its hood. It was a traveling library.

Where most towns in the Frontier tended to only have a few small collections of publications from the Capital, the traveling libraries filled in the gaps. They brought holograph disks and electronic readers, publications and copies of almanacs, and even a few well-preserved books loaned out only to the most privileged for exorbitant fees that paid the library's traveling costs.

Understandably, the libraries tended to be priority targets akin to robbing a banking caravan.

"It could be looted already," D said.

"It can't hurt to check."

D studied the caravan for a minute or two longer. Then he slung his sword on his back and approached it. He crouched a couple feet away, peering under. Beneath the caravan lay several EM mines but exposure to the weather had long since killed them.

One of the mines going off would have fried the electronic readers and holograph disks, rendering half of the library useless.

He stood and moved close enough to squint through the dirty glass of one of the side windows. The only thing D saw was faint, thin line of blue glowing at the back of the caravan. He recognized it as a fission battery powered charging station. That it continued to run boded well for them.

Adrian wandered around to the front of the caravan with their hand on their sword. "Anything?"

"It's fine."

"Great. How do we get in?"

"Go through the skylight, not the doors."

"Why?"

"Failsafes in the event of burglary."

Adrian eyed the caravan up and down, then leaned to the side to give the machine guns on the side a sour look. "Your Frontier is so backwards that books have become more prized than gold, is that it?"

"So it seems."

They sighed. "We really have gone back to the dark ages..."

"Had armored trucks back then, did you?"

"Oh, yes, and mechanical horses and guns, too," Adrian said, voice flat and unimpressed. "The electric lights were really iconic for the age, you know."

Hiding a rare smile in his scarf, D jumped up on top of the truck. As he knelt beside one of the skylights, Adrian floated up to join him.

He extended his claws, hooked them under the edge of the skylight, and ripped it up. A cloud of dust drifted down into the interior. D tilted his head at the creepy, heavy silence, almost disappointed.

Adrian dropped through the opening first, landing in a crouch. As soon as they moved aside, D followed. He stayed low and reached to push down on Adrian's shoulder to keep them from rising.

Normally, a moving library would have internal security of _some_ kind. D spotted the laser matrix on the ceiling near the door leading to the truck cab. It and the ceiling around it were dark, stained with smoke. So too were the upper parts of the nearby windows.

"Something smells..." Adrian wrinkled their nose up. "...Cooked."

D stood up and walked over to open the door to the cab. Some unidentifiable mass of charred meat and bone lay on the floor between the seats. He looked at it for a long moment, expressionless. Then he backed off to let Adrian see.

Adrian winced and turned their face away with the back of their hand pressed beneath their nose. "Ugh."

"The books may be damaged."

"Damn it."

D shut the door again. "Open the windows."

One by one, they shoved open the windows on both sides of the caravan. A breeze wafted through the windows but did little to help dissipate the smell.

Leaning against one of the caged bookshelves beneath a window, Adrian breathed a little raggedly with their face upturned. Sweat beaded at their temple and they looked paler than usual.

"Something the matter?" D asked.

"I might... be sick."

"Not in here."

Nodding, Adrian hurried to escape through the skylight. D saw them land outside and pace away through the dirty windows. They wrapped their arms around their middle, shoulders hunched, right before they disappeared behind a tree.

It seemed like an extreme reaction to D. He glanced towards the cab, swiping his tongue against the back of his fangs, thoughtful and slow.

Then he turned away.

No sense leaving without what they came for.


	17. lit up

D skimmed the titles on the bookshelves locked inside cages. The metal cages were like reinforced chicken wire, extra thick and coated in a reflective paint. They would not stop a determined looter but would buy the owners time to put a stop to it. Idly, D traced his finger back and forth across the cages as he browsed. His extended nail made a _click-click-click_ noise that seemed to echo in the empty caravan.

As expected, the books were of little interest and most of them were stained with soot. Almanacs, encyclopedias, and instruction manuals on the day to day affairs of surviving in the Frontier--all information readily available on the Capital's curated electronic library.

D suspected there was probably a safe containing more interesting books hidden somewhere. He stood in the middle of the aisle and looked left, then right. Nothing stood out in particular at first.

Then his gaze fell upon large square vents on the walls at either side of the back door. On the other side of the door lay sleeping quarters. There was no reason for such large vents to be there, as the rest of the ventilation system ran along the ceiling.

Frowning, D went to kneel in front of one. He peered inside but instead of seeing the beginnings of a ventilation shaft or through the slats on the other side, he found a block of solid metal. Upon wrenching the vent cover off, he revealed it to be a small safe. The other vent held the same.

Some traveling libraries took a cutthroat approach to their wares. They stored their most valuable items in safes equipped with mechanisms that would destroy their contents on theft attempts. Others planted false safes armed with traps to ensure that thieves never carried out another heist. Only a select few valued their wares more than the chance to inflict vengeance.

D knew these things only because the proliferation of knowledge among humans went against many Nobles' plans. Ignorant cattle were easier to control. When journeying through known Noble territories, traveling libraries sought out vampire hunters just the same as anyone else.

Tapping his claw against the side of one of the safes, D listened closely. The noise it made was neither the hollow echo of an empty trap nor the dull thud of something packed tight. He did the same to the other and found it to be exactly the same.

D raised his brow as he splayed his fingers against the side of the safe. To have not one, but two identical safes, neither protected in any way... D could only make guesses as to what kind of confidence or idiocy must have possessed the people running the library. Not that it particularly mattered, in the long run. They were all gone now, just like the rest of the town.

D stood and drew his sword. He set the tip of the blade against the crack underneath one of the safe hinges.

He nicked his tongue against one of his teeth to draw blood. His fangs began to lengthen and he opened his mouth wide to ease the ache. Inky black energy whirled out from him, lit up by the red glow of his eyes. The red light spread to the tip of his sword and became white hot.

As easy as cutting through butter, he sliced through the hinges. Then he moved to the other side of the safe door and cut through the lock. He did the same to the second safe.

With a sharp exhale, he released his aura. The power blasted outwards, rattling windows, and dissipated.

D sheathed his sword and knelt to flip the safe doors off. Inside the one on the left lay a single heavy tome, bound in dark leather and engraved with a golden bat emblem on the front. D picked the book up and carefully opened it. Going very still, D's eyes widened a fraction.

The pages inside were filled with beautiful hand inked lettering and detailed illustrations. The book contained a complete description of the construction of an ion bat spaceship, right down to the component parts and materials necessary. It was a treasure beyond imagining.

It would be terribly dangerous in the wrong hands.

D closed the book, then set it on the floor. He turned his attention to the other safe. It contained two slim books.

One was a flimsy spiral notebook containing fold out maps of the stars all the way out into neighboring galaxies. Someone had written numerous notes detailing locations of space stations, battles past, and potential mining sites.

The last book initially seemed a curious addition to the apparent interest in space: a thesis on farming without natural phenomena such as sunlight. The author's original intention seemed to be surviving underground. D supposed if a human had aspirations of living in space, they couldn't very well ask Nobles how to keep corn alive in the darkness.

D stacked all three books up, then folded his arms, frowning. The Capital would not have willingly parted with them. Someone on or near the traveling library's route would have paid an excessive amount.

He glanced out the windows. Nothing moved outside except for the breeze through the trees. Whoever sent for the books might have had a hand in the town's abandonment. Perhaps they'd sent the erstwhile looter that lay cooked in the caravan's cab. If so, they would send someone to investigate soon.

First, D needed to decide what to do with the books.

He had no particular interest in knowledge for knowledge's sake but even he understood what a terrible loss it would be to destroy it. There might not be any other copies left in all the world.

Yet, he could not very well travel with them in plain sight as they were. Nor did he know if he could trust his new traveling companion with them.

No, he knew exactly who to entrust with their keeping. He was long overdue for a visit and Adrian would likely appreciate meeting someone else with a voracious thirst for knowledge.

If D could find the necessary supplies in town, he would disguise the books. Books of any kind would still garner too much interest but he could easily fend off the kinds of petty thieves that might come for simple almanacs.

D shed his cloak and wrapped the books up inside it. He tied the tattered edges of the cloak up tight, ensuring that there were no gaps. Then he secured the parcel to his belt. It would be awkward to walk with it bouncing off his thigh but he needed his hands free to finish looting the caravan.

He turned his attention to the charging station across the aisle from him. Stepping up to it, he nudged the lid with his fingertips. It was not locked. It swung open and the machinery inside hummed as it shifted out of standby mode. The blue glow brightened briefly, then cut out.

Four rectangular devices lay in the cradle, secure inside battered protective cases. The screens looked scratched beyond repair. D picked one up and peeled it out of its case. The tablet inside was in almost pristine condition, but for a small surface-level dent on one corner.

At a press of a button on the side, the screen flicked on at the lowest brightness. D swiped his finger down the screen, scrolling through the long list of topics. Nothing stood out as especially questionable material. The only mention of Nobles appeared to be information on how to survive attacks. The Capital took great pains to keep their secrets.

D glanced to the upper right corner of the device. The reader had the capability of connecting to the Capital's networks and being tracked but someone had disabled that. The switch on the side of the device to turn wireless on had been soldered to prevent it from being used. Likely whoever handled the clandestine trade of books didn't want the Capital knowing where they were going. That was just fine with D. The Capital didn't need to know where two wayward dhampirs were going either.

Kneeling, he opened up the lower tray of the charging station. Inside sat a neat row of batteries that could be recharged by sunlight. D grabbed two of them and tucked them into his pouch.

Theoretically, a battery's charge _should_ last a year without sunlight--more than long enough for a traveling library to make its rounds back to collect any borrowed items. It never hurt to have backup power, though.

The charging station sat atop a locked metal cupboard. D yanked the handle off. He found a box full of unopened tablet cases and reinforced screen protectors inside. After snagging extras and adding them to his pouch, he carefully replaced the reader's screen protector, then tucked it into a new case.

While there may have been holodisks and audio tapes and devices for perusal, D moved towards the skylight, satisfied with his haul. He cast one last look around, then jumped out to land on the roof in a crouch.

After hopping down, D walked in the direction he'd seen Adrian go. He found them sitting beneath a drooping apple tree near the general store. They had one leg drawn up, arm draped over the knee, and face pressed into the crook of their elbow.

D stopped next to them and held the reader down.

Adrian lifted their head. Red-rimmed eyes, still watery, stared up at the device blankly. "This is...?"

"An electronic reader." D tapped his thumb against the screen to wake it, then selected a title at random. "You should have no difficulty figuring it out."

Taking the device, Adrian poked at the screen, which caused the text to jump. "...Science fiction predicts the future again." They rubbed the back of their sleeve against their face, then smiled thinly up at D. "Thank you."

D stepped away without answering.

"Were there any clues as to what happened?"

"To what?"

"Our... _crispy friend_." Adrian all but spat the last two words out, as though choking on them. Their voice hitched and rose. "This town. _Anything,_ D."

D glanced away. "Probably a looter that showed up later and was overcome by the caravan's security system."

For several minutes, total silence descended but for a soft, ragged noise from Adrian. With no comfort to offer, D gazed up at the sky. A slow, fat white cloud drifted west to join others on the horizon.

Eventually, Adrian stood and dusted themself off with one hand. "And no clues about the town itself, I take it." They cast a pointed look at the bundle tied to D's waist.

"Nothing concrete."

"Should we really be staying here?"

"Come dark, we'll know one way or the other."

"...Very reassuring."

D lifted one shoulder in a slight, disinterested shrug. "We should get what supplies we need and go back to the stables."

"Right."

Since they already scouted the area, Adrian moved swiftly to take the lead.

Or perhaps they operated under some misguided sense of chivalry, for they held the door to the general store open with a flourish and a sardonic look. D swept past them with nary a murmur of thanks.

The inside was a large, rectangular space occupied by orderly shelves, all well stocked with all the mundane necessities of life on the Frontier. A service counter sat at the back along with a door marked _"Employees Only"_. Stairs led to a second floor on the right, though a rope barred access. The sign hanging from the rope said _"Ask For Assistance"_.

Adrian hopped over the service counter and pushed the Employees Only door open just wide enough to stick their hand in. D heard the clack of switches, the whine of a generator kicking into high gear, and then the fizzle and whine of fluorescent lighting popping on. Somehow, the lights made the store seem both bigger and flatter, as though the space between the top of the shelves and the ceiling grew ever larger.

"Upstairs seems to be appliances and the like," Adrian said. "I don't know that any of it's useful."

"Depends."

"On?"

D walked between the shelves, skimming through the contents. The exasperated sigh from the other dhampir garnered no reaction.

For want of something to carry supplies in, D snagged a shopping basket from the end of an aisle. He untied the books from his belt and put them in the bottom of the basket.

Then he marched up and down the aisles, systematically piling in anything that might be useful. It felt strange to grab more than one or two things but he was no longer alone.

The thought gave him pause, as did quibbling over whether or not they really needed a water filtration bottle. He was fine drinking whatever but Adrian seemed the type to fuss over anything less than pristine spring water from the highest, most sacred peaks. Possibly blessed by a monk but store bought might have to do.

Adrian stepped up next to D and swept one of the bottles into the basket, deciding for him. They also tucked their electronic reader in, propped up against the side of the basket. "Tragically, I did not find a tub, but there's sleeping bags and tents in abundance."

"A tent is a waste of saddle space."

"Says you. Some of us prefer not to sleep in the mud."

"Get a tarp."

"Really, are you going to fashion shelter every night?"

"No." D added a handful of illumination cords to the basket. "We probably won't stop anywhere long enough unless there's a job."

"...I see."

Adrian's expressions tended towards the subtle when they weren't affecting airs. At that moment, they only slightly narrowed their eyes. D had to squint to notice the gradual downturn of their mouth.

"Do you have difficulty taking care of yourself, D?"

"The more time wasted sleeping, the more hunts go unfinished."

"Oh, you're one of _those_." Adrian sighed, pinching at the bridge of their nose. "And what good does it do if you collapse midhunt?"

"That almost never happens."

Adrian stared at D.

D stared back.

Slow and measured, Adrian said, "Then I suppose I got the worst luck of the draw, meeting you right as time and health conspired against you _in the middle of a job_."

"Exactly."

"I can't help but wonder how much easier your hunts would go if you made a more concerted effort to look after the most important tool of the trade."

Instead of answering that, D turned down another aisle. "If you want a tent so badly, get one."

"I'll get a tarp... but we're going to sleep at least eight hours more than once in a blue moon."

"You can sleep on the road."

"Not on a horse, I won't." Adrian all but slam dunked a first aid kit into the basket. Their golden eyes flashed like their teeth. "So kindly pull your head from your ass!"

D shifted around in place to stare down at the other dhampir. Coldly, he said, "Terribly sorry the accommodations of the future don't measure up to a warping castle. You'll have to make do like the rest of us."

"And you're being a real bastard because, what, being human is beneath you?"

"No. It's--"

A high pitched ringing sliced through the air and whatever D might have said. The two dhampirs spun on their heels, facing the direction of the noise, though there was nothing to see but a shelf loaded with various metal tools. Even beyond that, there lay only a solid brick wall with no windows.

The sound grew. With it came a slow growing rumble.

"What _is_ that," Adrian hissed.

D dropped the basket and grabbed Adrian's arm, right above the elbow. He dragged them behind the service counter, roughly shoving them down to the dingy tile floor.

The shockwave hit a second later. The shelves rocked, items crashing to the floor. The lights flickered as the generator stuttered. Glass shattered and pieces flew everywhere in a brilliant but painful display of glittering razor-edged shards. A solid wall of dust billowed down the streets and in through the front door, blanketing everything.

Coughing, Adrian smacked their fist against D's shoulder and chest until he let them up. They hunched over their knees with a hand pressed to their temple. Blood trickled from one of their ears.

Despite being in no better shape, D rushed out the front door to stand in the middle of the street.

There, in the far distance, the silhouette of the castle marred the skyline. It did not flicker or shimmer with the promise of vanishing. It sort of looked like it slouched down, all its topsy turvy architecture drooping inwards. D fancied he could make out a few bricks tumbling down from some of the higher towers.

Adrian came stumbling to a halt next to him. Their mouth hung open at the sight of the castle. Then they jerked around to face D, pointing. "We have to-- The horses, are they ready!?"

"No."

"Damn it, we need to go--" Adrian took a few running steps down the road. "--before it takes off again!"

"We won't reach it in time on foot."

Arms spread, Adrian stopped. "It could have expended its last jump for the day."

"It's out beyond the hills," D said. "By the time we get there, we'll be out of breath and be caught in the shockwave."

"Then, what, we just _sit_ here?"

"Unless we find a working vehicle."

Adrian made an aborted slashing motion with their hand as they gnashed their teeth. Then their features softened into blankness. "The caravan."

"No, too slow."

"And I suppose none of these rusted junk heaps will do..." Adrian flicked their fingers dismissively at the few vehicles lining the street, sandwiched in between carriages and wagons.

"Likely not."

D started walking, not towards town hall and the castle on the horizon behind it, but the opposite direction entirely. He turned left at the stables, slipping through a narrow street to come out on a wide residential lane. Adrian trailed after him, their boot heels clacking off the pavement with more force than necessary.

The residential lane had more of the same--flat tires and gently rusting frames all around.

D bypassed them all and searched instead for sheds and garages. None of them seemed large enough to contain anything suitable. The best he found was an old bike that might do twenty miles per hour on a good, flat stretch of road.

On reaching the end of the road, D huffed.

"All these cars, and not a single mechanic," Adrian muttered.

"Aside from the general store and the caravan, did you scout anywhere else?"

"I flew overhead." Adrian pointed up and swept their finger through the air. "If it's not on main, then it's probably residential. There were fields further out. And what was probably a junk heap, northwest of the general store."

Already moving, D said, "The junk heap."

They ran across town and down a winding lane lined with street lights and trees. At the end of it, high metal fences topped by barbed wire blocked access to the junk heap.

D ran right at it, launching himself over. He landed atop a leaning stack of stripped down cars. The whole thing groaned from the impact and bits of rust and dust rained down. He hopped down without a backwards glance, crossing the junk-riddled yard.

As a bat, Adrian flew after him. Their bestial form vanished in a cloud of smoke as they landed and fell into step with him.

Unlike the junk heap in the previous town, this one had been manned by more than one lonely old man in a small trailer. A multiple apartment building sat catty corner to a large garage and two warehouses.

A number of dismantled vehicles in various states of disrepair occupied the garage. D frowned over all of them before turning away to investigate the warehouses. The first contained an assortment of parts and sundry.

The second was filled wall to wall with large, tarp-covered blocky shapes. D's shadow stretched long and thin under the dim, flickering lights as he approached one of those shapes to peel the tarp back.

He revealed a pristine black two person car sitting on flat tires. It was showy but slow, the kind of thing a mayor might cruise up and down the streets during a parade.

"I thought you said cars were unpopular."

"Hobbyists." D said the word with all the distaste he could muster. "Look for something less flashy."

Together, they yanked all the tarps out of the way, uncovering the whole collection in just a few minutes.

Most of the vehicles had all the ornament and usefulness of a fine piece of art. Some even lacked working components, D discovered. Chrome-painted wood fashioned in the _shape_ of engines and polished to a high sheen managed to replicate the look and feel of a vehicle from a time when vampires didn't rule supreme.

"Do you suppose..." Adrian flicked their forefinger against one of the false engines. "...they intended to display these?"

D stalked away. "Useless."

Outside, he cast another look around the junkyard but nothing stood out. It was just his luck to find people who created display pieces but apparently did not own working vehicles of their own.

At a slow, dawdling pace, Adrian wandered around behind the apartment building. "Oh! D!"

Rounding the building, D found Adrian standing behind a row of motorcycles of varying design. Though abandoned like the rest of the town, they all showed signs of being well cared for. Hardly any rust clung to their frames and only two had tires going flat.

After only a brief glance at them all, D went straight for the largest one.

The thing had oblong treads instead of traditional tires, allowing it to traverse rough terrain. The engine required no key to start it and it all but purred. The gauge for fuel showed half a tank. Next to that, a different gauge reported a full charge from sitting out in the sun untouched for so long.

D straddled the bike and revved the engine. "Let's go."


	18. by the strobes

The second Adrian hopped into the seat behind him, D peeled out of the parking lot in a cloud of black smoke. The engine roared as they sped towards the gates. Throwing his weight backwards, D bounced the front wheel off the ground and smashed them through the gates. Adrian clung tightly to his middle with a muffled shout.

Outside of the junkyard, D turned sharply to head straight for the castle. He cut through trees and fields, zigging and zagging only to avoid the obstacles they couldn't mow down.

Ahead of them, the town walls loomed.

"D!"

Adrian threw their arm and their sword forward. The blade flashed in the late afternoon sunlight, flying faster than the bike. D leaned forward as he followed it. Graceful and quick, the sword cut through the wall in two fast diagonal slashes.

The bike's front treads hit the wall at sixty miles per hour. The wall burst outwards in a spray of debris, sharp shards flying wide. Adrian snatched their sword out of the air on the way out.

D twisted the throttle and the bike surged forward. Adrian's grip around his middle tightened, their face mashed against his shoulder. Somehow, they managed to get their sword sheathed and throw their other arm around D, clinging tight.

They blazed across a stretch of flat land, faster and faster. Everything blurred by once they shot past eighty miles per hour. They left a huge cloud of dust and smoke in their wake. The treads tore up the ground better than any plow could.

In no time at all, they reached the hills.

D slowed only a fraction to avoid trees and rocks as they climbed. The engine churned, gravity slowing it further as the climb became steeper.

At the crest of the hill, D gunned it. They flew down the other side and became a screaming streak of metal, barreling down at breakneck speeds. They reached the bottom in seconds and blazed across the valley beyond.

The castle lay on the other side of a large, muddy river. D leaned to one side, angling the bike towards a pier jutting out into the water.

The smell of blood hit him right before they reached the end of the boards. It dribbled down his neck and front, splattered off his thighs onto the gas tank and seat. Eyes ablaze, D jerked the front wheel up, twisted the throttle again, and gave the bike all it was worth.

They flew, higher and higher.

Adrian groaned quietly and all of a sudden, the bike slammed down on the earth on the other side of the river. D grabbed Adrian by the wrists and kicked off from the bike at the last second. The steering column snapped and the whole thing tumbled end over end, smashing into so many pieces against a broken stone column. The two dhampirs twisted through the air and landed in a heap not far from the destroyed bike.

D got to his feet immediately. Aside from a few surface level bruises, he was not hurt. Adrian should not have been either but for some reason blood coursed from their hand. They otherwise seemed unhurt, though they got to their feet slowly.

At D's lingering look, Adrian said, "It's fine." They pulled a lacy handkerchief from a pocket and wrapped their hand. "I can only manipulate things in possession of my blood."

"Ah."

D glanced down at his blood-soaked black clothing. He swiped his fingertips against a particularly damp patch, then brought it to his mouth.

Adrian wrinkled their nose. "If you ate more, you wouldn't be getting so excited over scraps."

"Now's not the time."

D stalked off towards the castle, regretfully without the satisfying swirl and snap of cape or coat. With blood on his tongue, his fangs ached, extended out past his lips. He knew his eyes were probably glowing, too, and struggled to keep his aura from blasting outwards.

Adrian running by helped not at all. D gnashed his teeth, fighting off the urge to chase down _prey_. It was a useless distraction when they could afford none.

The castle was not in good shape. Walls had crumbled and rooftops collapsed inwards. Glass glittered in between cracks in the earth. The drawbridge lay in fractured pieces in the moat.

"Damn," Adrian hissed. They paced near the moat, chewing at their thumb nail "If we could just get _inside_ , to the engine room..."

"Then what?"

"There are ways we might track it, if not seize control entirely."

D stood back, studying the central keep. Countless vines spread out from windows on the second floor, sunk deep into the stone. They spread out to cover as much of the castle as possible. Thick, dark ichor oozed slowly down from them. On the ground below, D spotted a discarded heap of flower petals.

"Adrian." D pointed towards the vines.

"Oh." Adrian hurried over to the edge of the moat, as close as they could get. Cupping their hands around their mouth, they shouted, "Thacea! Are you in there?"

A ripple spread through the vines. More of the stone crumbled away. A second later, a hand slapped against the window frame. Thacea hauled themself into view with visible effort.

They looked droopy-- their hair had gone white at the roots, their eyes lost in hollowed shadows, and their central bloom sagging and limp. "Master... I can't... I can't hold it much longer."

"We need to get to the engine room!"

"There's..."

The castle rumbled. The whole thing twitched, towers and parapets rearranging themselves between one blink and the next.

"...no time," Thacea wheezed.

Adrian kicked off from the ground, starting to float. Before they could go far, D grabbed them by the wrist and yanked them back down. They struggled against him.

D tightened his grip. "We need to get away!"

"But--"

Thacea cried out, "Master!"

The two dhampirs looked up, just in time to see Thacea launch a small dark body from the window. It flailed in the air, four legs kicking, and yelped. Adrian wrenched themself loose from D's grip and launched forward to catch it. They floated above the moat, curled around the creature.

It looked like an ugly dog, with half its face and leg missing to expose the bones beneath. A large yellow handkerchief held something securely to its back.

Adrian quickly landed next to D, craning their neck back to peer up at Thacea. The dog squirmed a little in their arms, its stumpy tail wagging as it tried to get at Adrian's face to lick. "Come with us!"

The castle lurched again. A deep hum filled the air, rising in volume and pitch.

D grabbed Adrian's wrist again and turned to start running. Though Adrian made no attempt to get away, they twisted back to watch the castle begin to shimmer.

"Hector, _please_!"

The last thing Thacea said before the hum became too great to hear anything else was: "I can't, I have to... slow it. Please, go!"

There was no way for the dhampirs to get far enough away from the castle. D yanked Adrian behind a chunk of ruined stone wall and shoved them and their weird dog down into the weeds. He threw his body over them, and with not an ounce of shame, grabbed their bloodied hand to lick the crusted blood away.

His aura became like a solid thing, thick and inky black. It enveloped them right as the castle exploded from existence.

The shockwave rocketed outwards, reducing everything in a mile radius to dust. The sheer force of the impact battered against D's aura, breaking it down, and then smashed into his back, shredding him to pieces right down to the bone. Still he clung to Adrian, holding them down, shielding them with every last ounce of his strength.

The last thing he saw before blacking out was their wide eyes, gleaming gold in the dark.

He dreamed of an endless blue forest of gently swaying kelp; of the ripple of light shining through the water above; of fish in every size, shape, and color darting by. Silent, he walked through this underwater world, marveling at what he would never see without the assistance of long defunct Noble technology.

A winding path took him through a chasm lined with coral. At its end, a castle made of seashells rose up from the depths. Bioluminescent lights glittered in the hollows, illuminating the gorgeous curves and pearlescent sheen of the shells.

He was not at all surprised to find Adrian walking alongside him--or someone that looked like Adrian, with gold eyes and platinum blond hair. They smiled up at him, lashes fluttering.

Despite the chill of the ocean, he felt warmed.

D opened his eyes.

Moonlight streamed through a window off to the right, casting its silver light over his face. He squinted against it, distantly registering that he lay flat on his stomach on a firm mattress with his head on a thin pillow and his left arm stretched out above his head. Heavy, slightly scratchy blankets weighed him down. As did a small, warm weight curled against his hip.

He clenched his fist and the flex of muscles jostled something wedged beneath his skin. D squinted up, eyes tracing the line of an IV drip up to a pair of clear bags containing fluids, one amber and the other totally transparent.

A shadow passed through the moonlight. D half rolled towards it. Adrian paced back and forth in front of the windows, fidgeting with their electronic reader. The light emitted by the tablet illuminated a face lined with worry.

"...Adrian."

The other dhampir stopped, dropping the tablet away from their face. "D. You're awake, good."

The sound of their voices made the little lump against D's side lift its head. The dog's tongue lolled out as it wriggled its rear in a furious attempt to wag its stumpy little tail. A second later, it bounded up to come snuffle at D's face.

Groaning quietly, D turned his head away, tipping it back to avoid the reach of a slobbery tongue. Adrian came to rescue him, gently chiding the little dog as they set it on the ground.

"Sorry, Cezar can be... _too_ friendly."

"Cezar," D repeated. He blinked up at Adrian, feeling particularly slow and numb. "Why..."

"I don't know, that's what Hh-- Thacea named him."

D closed his eyes. "No." Inhaling, he struggled to push through the dull throb of fog slowing his thoughts. "Why... do you have a dog, now. The point."

"Aside from his company?"

The dog bounced up onto its hind legs, paws propped up on the edge of the bed. It whined and made a few aborted attempts to jump up.

Adrian knelt to stroke their fingers against the dog's back. "You're a very good boy, yes, you are. Sit. Good. Stay." They then stood back up, brushing their fingers against their pants. "Thacea has given us the key to tracking the castle."

"The dog?"

Laughing quietly, Adrian shook their head. "No. A literal key." With a flourish, they produced a large golden skeleton key. "Even if the castle should reach your Sacred Ancestor, its full potential cannot be utilized without this."

"Hn..." D propped himself up on one elbow--not the one with the IV needle inserted. "How can we track with that?"

"Don't be in such a hurry to get up unless you intend to eat."

Narrowing his eyes, D lay back down.

Adrian smiled thinly. "Now... As I was the last lord of the castle, however temporarily..."

They brought a thumb to their mouth and nicked the pad against one fang. Blood welled up in a tantalizing bead. D could not help but inhale. His stomach and fists clenched.

With a knowing look, Adrian swept their thumb against the key, smearing blood. It rested in the palm of their hand with little dribbles of blood pooling down the sides. A slow frown wrinkled their brow, eyes sharpening in concentration. Their pupils dilated, then narrowed down to slits, gold bleeding to red.

The key trembled, then floated up. It spun lopsidedly. By the fifth rotation, it steadied out. By the tenth, it abruptly stopped doing full circles and instead wobbled back and forth. Then the key suddenly came to a stop, pointing the bit not to the north but east.

Adrian lifted their hand, making the key rise a few more inches. It bobbed, then returned to its orientation. "...I can use this as a compass."

An odd sort of relief trickled down D's spine. He exhaled, sinking into the mattress. Some of the stress of trying to chase the castle and the master it sought was gone now.

Allowing the key to drop, Adrian caught it, bounced it once, then stowed in a pocket. They looked very pleased with themself, expression gone soft with the faintest curve of their lips.

"Now, let's get you back on your feet, you selfless bastard."

"Not selfless."

"Oh, but you accept that you're a bastard?"

D snorted.

Smirking, Adrian bent to peel the medical tape on D's hand away. They were too gentle, too slow about removing the needle. D watched the bead of blood on the tip closely. It was his own and would provide no sustenance but it made his stomach grumble all the same.

"Don't worry," Adrian said, as they disposed of the needle. "There's an appetizing cup of coppery plasma with your name on it."

"Thrilling."

"Isn't it?" Grabbing a small packet of wipes from the table beside the bed, Adrian tore it open and wiped D's hand off. "I made soup, too, which you're going to eat if you know what's good for you."

"I don't..."

Adrian raised a brow.

"...Need soup."

"There it is."

D lay with his cheek pillowed against his upper arm and watched Adrian leave the room. Their little dog pranced after them. It was... strangely cute, for something that looked like it crawled out of a grave. In retrospect, he thought it weird that the thing didn't reek. At worst, it smelled musty, all dust and dried herbs.

Eyes sliding shut, he wondered if Adrian would try to feed it soup, too.

He must have dozed for a few minutes because when next he opened his eyes, it was to Adrian setting a tray on the side table with a clatter. D blinked the sleep away and sat up slowly. His limbs trembled from the effort. Adrian stopped just short of helping him up, one hand hovering near his shoulder.

"Any pain?" they asked.

"No."

Nodding, Adrian plinked a plasma capsule into a mug, then filled it from a pitcher. They passed the mug over. D chugged it down automatically. It brought no immediate relief, leaving him feeling just as dissatisfied as before. He handed the mug back, expression blank.

Next was a thermos. Adrian unscrewed the cap and the smell of the hearty broth inside filled the room. The little dog bounced against their leg with an excited yelp.

Not even looking, Adrian murmured, "Down, Cezar."

After pouring the soup out, Adrian pushed the cap into D's hands. He looked down at the lumpy reddish orange surface. Rice, tomatoes, lentils, chickpeas, onions, some greens, and some sort of meat made for a soup that was thick enough to resemble runny oatmeal.

"Where did you..." D lifted the cap, tilting it towards Adrian. "...Find any of this."

"The gardens, mostly. Unfortunately, the meat's been frozen for a while, so the texture is a little off."

"I doubt I'll notice."

The corner of Adrian's mouth twitched. "Kind of you to say, unless you mean to keep _staring_ at it, instead of eating it."

As tempting as it was to do just that, D lifted the cap to his mouth and dutifully began to slurp the soup down. It didn't taste half bad. The meat came in small square cubes that shredded apart easily in his mouth. Beef or something resembling it, he supposed. He still craved a mouthful of hot blood but the soup went a long way towards curbing that.

With a satisfied look, Adrian drifted off to sit in a chair by the windows. The little dog jumped up to flop into their lap. They stroked its ears with one hand as they grabbed their electronic reader.

After he finished about half of the soup, D said, "Do you mean to keep the dog."

Adrian blinked. "Of course."

"How will you transport it?"

"I assumed a carrier of some kind."

"On horseback."

"Why not?"

D shook his head faintly. He took another mouthful of soup, eyeing the little dog. If the thing was dead, perhaps it wouldn't notice being bounced around in a saddlebag.

"Do you know how aggravating it is to have you casting doubts but offering no solutions, D?"

Licking his lips, D shrugged one shoulder.

"I'm not abandoning Cezar. I couldn't do that to Thacea."

"You called them another name, before."

"Don't you try to change the subject!"

"Why did you call them Hector?"

"Unless you mean to make an honest attempt at sharing information equally, I have no interest in telling you anything about Thacea." Adrian glared, curling their arms protectively around Cezar. "Now, are you planning on being a bastard about the dog?"

D set the dregs of soup aside. "Do what you like." He slid from the bed onto legs that quivered but did not give out under his weight. Idly, he plucked at the nondescript black sweats he'd been put in. "Humans might have a problem with its face, though."

"...They usually do, yes."

"And how have you dealt with that in the past?"

"Oh, I... hm." Adrian tapped their fingers against the side of the dog's exposed skull. "That's a thought, actually."

"What."

They flicked their hand dismissively. "I'll show you later. There's a bath and clothes waiting for you. It's the door on the right. Try not to drown."

Squinting because he wanted to demand more of an answer, but all too ready to clean the smell of disinfectant and sweat off, D left.

The bathing room looked--and smelled--like it had been scrubbed clean recently. Warm yellow light from sconces on the wall spilled out over shiny ceramic surfaces. D flicked the ventilation fan on, then shut the door behind him.

A stack of towels and hygiene products sat on one side of the sink. On the other side was another stack, this one comprised of various articles of clothing in black, including his belt and pouches. His boots and sword lay propped against the nearby wall.

The tub was a big claw foot thing with a large shower head. Surprisingly, when D turned the faucet, the water came out hot and clear. He shed his clothes as the tub filled up. Gingerly, he touched at his back but found no new scars or bandages. He was as whole and pristine as ever.

Gaze averted from his body, D climbed into the tub. It felt good to sink into the hot water, all the way up to his neck. After scrubbing until his pale, gray skin was flushed, D sprawled with his legs akimbo, his arms draped over the lip of the tub, and his head tilted back.

For the hour or so that he stayed in the bath, Adrian only came to check on him once. They knocked and called through the door, "Have you drowned?"

"No."

"What a shame."

Rolling his eyes, D slouched further into the tub. Getting out would mean having to get back on the road. Strangely, he wanted to put that off for a little while longer.


	19. moving

D stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed with his sword at his back and his hat on his head.

His spurs jingled with each step as he explored the small townhouse, getting his bearings. The little dog raced after D wherever he went. It was not deterred by the cold look he leveled at it.

Aside from the bathroom and single bedroom, the house had a large front room with a miniature kitchen in one corner, an indoor privy, and an attic crawlspace. A single person household, then.

Their saddlebags and the supplies requisitioned from the general store lay stacked on the coffee table between an old, lumpy armchair and a space heater. D laid his hand atop the cloak-wrapped bundle of books. For a split second, he expected to hear the countenanced carbuncle telling him whether or not Adrian had tampered with the books. His expression clouded over.

Then he dropped his hand away, expression clear and cold once more. As far as he could tell, the cloak had not been untied. Adrian probably knew what it contained. Maybe they didn't fully grasp the value.

D looked out the front windows. The view outside was that of a residential street, illuminated by occasionally flickering street lamps. The houses across the way looked particularly run down, though the gardens climbing over every available surface seemed to be striving.

Venturing back to the bedroom, D could see the stables and workshop out the back windows. The yard appeared to be connected, suggesting that the previous owner had been the town's horseperson.

Adrian sprawled in the chair in the bedroom with one leg folded under them and the electronic reader propped against their thigh. They rested their cheek against their knuckles, lifting their gaze from the screen.

If D stepped a little to the left, he could see the words on the screen. Something about prions, whatever those were. "How long was I asleep?"

"Going on four days, now."

"Anything happen?"

"No."

"Did you see to the horses at all?"

"It's really very lucky you gave me this--" Adrian lifted the ereader and wagged it back and forth. "--before you took yet another lengthy nap. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had a clue what to do with those mechanical beauties."

Crossing the room, D paused in front of the door. "I'm going to finish repairs. We leave after."

"Alright."

"Keep an eye out," D added. "We've been here too long."

"Expecting trouble, or in a hurry to catch up to the castle?"

"Trouble."

"Take Cezar with you."

D looked down at the little dog. It wagged its butt at him.

"Why."

"You'll be up to your elbows in horse guts and distracted." Adrian tucked the ereader under their arm and stood up. "Cezar will let you know if anything is coming."

"And what are you going to do while I'm dog-sitting?"

"A flyover and one last supply run."

Thinking of how much stuff they already had, D frowned. "If your saddlebags split on the road, I'm leaving you behind."

Adrian chuckled with a roll of their eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm only going to get what I need to keep Cezar."

At its name, the little dog bounced up onto its hind legs with a hoarse yap. D squinted down at it, trying and failing not to be amused by its antics. He hoped his scarf hid any lapse in expression.

"I assume it knows commands."

"He knows sit, down, stay, come, heel, watch me, and play dead."

"...Play dead. Really."

"Thacea's sense of humor, not mine."

D snorted. Adrian's expression was far too innocent--the sparkle of mirth in their golden eyes hinted at more behind the soft smile.

To the little dog, he said, "Come, Cezar."

Then he swept out into the front room to collect his saddlebags and the precious bundle of books. The little dog scrambled to follow, always putting itself half a step to his right. Its single glowing blue eye remained fixed on D at all times.

Adrian followed, too. They donned their coat and sword, then gathered up their own things. "What do you mean to do with those?"

"Those?"

Pointedly, Adrian glanced at the cloak-wrapped bundle.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because you made a point of telling me books are worth more than gold again and it seems a shame to shove them willy nilly into saddlebags and hope for the best." Adrian narrowed their eyes, lip curled to show the faintest hint of fang. "Do I need to look for a carrying case or not?"

"Nothing that will draw attention."

Not waiting for a response, D exited the house. With dog and Adrian right at his heels, he rounded the house, heading for the stables.

Inside, the horses nickered softly at the sudden flood of lights. They had been brought out from standby mode and bedded down with fresh cut grass of some kind. The watering trough was half full and remnants of grain lay in the bottom of the feeding trough. Both horses looked well brushed and polished to a high sheen.

It was all very sentimental, in a way, treating cyborg horses like mundane ones.

"You could have left them on standby."

Adrian dumped their bags on a crate in one corner. "Unless the information's outdated, I would have been flitting back and forth between your IV bags and theirs all the day long. One idiot on standby is enough, thanks."

Setting his own things on a nearby crate, D shrugged his sword and cape off. He laid his hat atop the whole pile. "Did you name it?"

Airily, Adrian answered, "I have a few options I'm debating."

And then, with a lazy roll of their wrist in a facsimile of a wave, they strode out from the stable's front doors. As soon as they stepped outside, their form swirled and shifted. D watched them take off before turning his gaze down to the dog. Its attention hadn't wavered a bit.

"Good boy."

Cezar wiggled, tongue lolling, and pranced around him. D let it carry on for a moment as he fetched a saddle blanket. He laid the blanket out near the crates, where the dog would be able to see both doors.

Pointing at the blanket, D said, "Cezar, down."

The dog hunkered down, not on the blanket, but exactly where it was. Sighing, D picked it up and set it on the blanket. It held its lying position stiffly even when picked up, as though rigor mortis had set in.

"Stay."

That done, D went to check on the horses. He found nothing to complain about from Adrian's care. They'd been spoiled a little but were no worse for the wear. Adrian's horse kept nosing at him, possibly seeking treats he did not have.

"You're going to get some horribly sentimental name and then die gruesomely," he told it.

It only stared at him and flicked one ear.

D put the horses into standby mode to make a more thorough check. He had already finished most of the major repairs needed for his horse, aside from hammering out a few dents on the shoulder casing. He took care of that, then a few more minor tasks like cleaning and oiling the joints and refilling coolant.

Physically, Adrian's was in fine condition and needed the same minor maintenance. The worrying squeak of its limbs turned out to be grit jammed into the gears, easily remedied.

D glanced towards the doors, then over at the dog. Cezar wagged its stumpy tail tentatively.

The dog added new conundrums to the equation. While he had successfully reduced the chances of either horse breaking and running at the slightest provocation previously, Adrian's horse would _have_ to be reprogrammed because Adrian's attention would be split out of concern for the dog.

"Sentimental fool," D muttered, unsure if he meant himself or Adrian.

He retrieved a small kit of miniature screwdrivers and a handheld clamshell computer from the rolling tray of supplies still sitting near the stall.

Thick cables allowed him to hook the computer directly to the horse's mechanical brain. D set the computer to running a total scan. It took almost three minutes to complete.

During that time, D busied himself with double checking limb flexibility and armor integrity. He smoothed out a minor dent on the horse's hind plate with his fingertips.

The status report came back with a complicated string of numbers and letters, several hundred thousands of characters long. D frowned over it, skimming through the details. His earlier slapdash soldering had confused the computer's system and made it come to the conclusion that the horse was all but nonfunctioning. D entered a few corrections, read over the new conclusions, then added more details until the computer finally understood the scope of the horse's brain.

With an accurate read out, he was able to move on to changing it. Through a combination of inputting codes and making physical adjustments to the brain itself, D carefully tweaked the horse's personality. Adrian had been right that he would be too absorbed in his task to notice much.

If not for Cezar's hoarse bark, Adrian might have returned unnoticed. D tightened his grip on his screwdriver as he swung towards the door.

Adrian strode right by with a linen bag in one hand. "There's lights coming from the west. Vehicles of some kind."

"How many?"

"I didn't go out far enough to be sure. Three, perhaps."

"More than I expected."

Kneeling beside Cezar, Adrian began to unload their linen bag. It contained an odd assortment of items ranging from twigs to twine. "Is this because the town is empty or have I been cavorting with someone infamous for his evil deeds?"

"We shouldn't be here when the new arrivals show up."

"That answers much, thank you."

D turned back to his work. While he quickly tried to finish up the delicate operation of reprogramming an entire brain without causing lasting damage, Adrian appeared to be setting their random treasures about in a circle on the floor. Sometimes they frowned and shuffled things around. It seemed a weird, fruitless waste of time.

"You should get ready to leave."

"I am."

"By playing with trash?"

"Yes, I am _playing_ ," Adrian hissed. "Teaching Cezar a new trick or two. Perhaps I'll have him grifting before the night's end. Honestly."

D entered one last line of code, then ran diagnostics. "Explain, then."

"Are you going to tell me why we need to make a getaway?"

"The books."

"Ah." Adrian nudged what looked like a pin drum from a music box, then stretched a long cord of red string between it and a stick. "Well, I am about to cast a spell."

Something about the sly, smug way Adrian looked at him told D they were being vague on purpose. He probably deserved it.

"Study of Noble technology is forbidden even within the Capital," D bit out, each word more effort than the last.

"So, _extremely_ valuable books, of the sort we could be killed for."

"Yes."

"I assume leaving them behind is not an option."

"No."

"And even if we did, if we were seen..."

"No witnesses."

"Right, well." Picking Cezar up, Adrian cuddled the dog, scritching under its chin until it stopped stiffly holding its pose and wriggled to get at their fingers with eager licks. Adrian set Cezar in the circle of junk. "Cezar, sit. Good."

They brought their hand to their mouth and bit a finger. Blood welled up in fat beads, the smell assaulting D's senses. Adrian dribbled it along the edges of the circle, murmuring softly. The words were entirely unfamiliar to D.

A cold, dark power emanated out from Adrian, making the hairs on the backs of D's neck and arms stand on end. The lights buzzed and flickered, growing dimmer. D glanced quickly to the computer but it remained unaffected.

The spilled blood flowed together, forming sharp, spiky runes. They did not glow so much as suck all the light out of the room until they stood out starkly in the dark. Still Adrian kept whispering, hands splayed out above the circle.

All of a sudden, the power swirled into the center of the circle and vanished with a woosh. The lights brightened and steadied out. Adrian dropped their hands.

At first, D could not guess what the spell was supposed to have done.

Then he realized: Cezar no longer moved. In fact, Cezar no longer resembled a real dog at all. It was a plushie with felt fur and a patchwork face and leg. Its glowing blue eye had been replaced by a glass bead.

Adrian picked the dog up and patted its head. "Tada."

"You can manipulate the dark."

"Is that what they call it these days? It's only a glamor."

The computer chimed to let him know that it was done with diagnostics. D ignored it, staring at Adrian. "How much can you hide?" he demanded.

As though afraid he might come over and snatch it, Adrian tucked the dog against their side. "Why are you getting so intense about this?"

The distant rumble of engines echoed down the street. Both dhampirs turned to look.

D moved first, quickly shutting the lights off. "I may need more time."

"...Oh." Adrian exhaled. "For a second there, I thought you were going to fly off the handle about how you can't trust anyone and start stabbing me again."

"I can't." D pulled the doors shut, then hit the shutter panel. Metal siding slid down over the doors and windows. "But you have the key to the castle."

"Is that all."

"Hide us."

Adrian settled the plush dog inside D's hat, then retrieved a piece of chalk from the previous magic circle. They thrust it out towards D and gestured towards the circle. "Draw those runes at the four cardinal directions."

Blinking, D looked between circle and chalk. "Which ones, and where?"

"Do you not know?"

"No, I enjoy wasting time asking."

"Gods." Shoving a hand through their hair, Adrian rolled their eyes. "Your education must have suffered terribly in favor of learning how to brute force your way through everything..."

Apparently not expecting an answer, they pointed out four of the runes stained on the floor in their blood. " _Drux_ at the north, _Fam_ at the south, _Graph_ at the east, and _Gon_ at the west, don't forget the point." Emphatically, they tapped at the small dot off to the side of the last rune.

Wordless, D took the chalk and went to copy down the runes. He did not know how they were supposed to be drawn nor how accurate they needed to be, so he took extra care to replicate them exactly.

Meanwhile, Adrian rifled through supplies and scattered odd bits and pieces all over the room. By the end of it, they had recreated a much larger circle all along the walls. They stood at the middle, surveying their handiwork.

Adrian nodded towards their horse and the computer attached. "If you're doing anything delicate with that device, now is the time to finish up."

D dropped the chalk and strode over to the horse. He bent over the computer, scanning the diagnostics report. Everything read normal. They would have to see how the horse behaved over time and watch for unexpected glitches.

Satisfied, D shut the computer down and unhooked it, then secured the brain plate to the horse's skull. He wrapped the computer up in its cables, taking it and the screwdriver kit over to their things.

"Done."

"Good." Adrian lifted a finger to rest it against their chin just below their mouth. "This may not work."

Outside, the rumble of engines crept closer and closer, slow and cautious. D turned towards the sound. He reached behind him to rest his fingertips against the hilt of his sword.

Again, cold, dark power radiated out from Adrian. It crackled like ice. Their hair flew wildly as a chill wind hissed through the room, tearing at anything loose to send it swirling around inside the circle.

Blood spilled from both hands, held out at either side of them, level with their face. As they chanted, the blood ran in straight lines, forming an elaborate net on the ground that ran up the walls to connect each of the runes.

The lights buzzed then cut out all of a sudden. Darkness so complete that not even D could make out the slightest silhouette filled the room. It made the faint light of headlights shining through the shutters seem stark and blinding. D squinted against it.

Adrian fell silent. Their breath came out in reedy, hitching whistles. The smell of their blood permeated the dark they had created.

Outside, the vehicles came to a halt. Doors slammed and people called out to one another.

D picked his way across the room, keeping one hand to the wall and toeing his way along between the junk strewn around. He crouched near what was probably the front door. Loosing his sword from its scabbard, he strained to hear what the strangers were saying.

"Town's bit it, boss!" a masculine voice cried.

Another, too hoarse to determine the gender of, asked, "You reckon it was vamps?"

"Quiet!" a third voice boomed. "Fan out in pairs, be back here in two minutes."

Familiarity teased at D but he could not place the third voice. He waited with bated breath, listening to the faint sounds of footsteps scattering, marked by the occasional crunch of gravel or the bounce of a rock being kicked.

Quiet fell outside for a minute. Adrian's breathing hitched, rattled, and then they coughed. Blanketed under a sheer wall of darkness as they were, the sound should not have carried.

Yet, another voice that seemed familiar to D whispered, "Bro, there's somethin' weird over here." It was a deep rumble that could not be quiet no matter how its owner tried.

"Looks like a hidey-hole for sure," the third voice said.

A split second later, steel-tipped arrows as thick as a grown man's fingers punched through the shutters over the door. Solid beams of light sliced through the darkness as more and more arrows battered the stable's weak defenses.

"Shit," Adrian hissed, flinching from the light.

Once a large enough hole had been punched out, the third voice called, "C'mon out, why don't you?"

D remembered then, being taunted once before in a graveyard. As before, he moved too slowly for the other man. An arrow whizzed through the hole and curved, punching a hole into the wall right next to D's ear. Bits of debris rained down onto his shoulder.

"Missed 'em, bro."

"Yeah, won't this time, though."

The click of machinery and a string drawn tight was all the warning D had. A trio of arrows flew through the gap, arcing exactly like the one before. D brought his sword up, knocking two away. The third stopped just short of his face. Adrian's gold eyes blazed red around the pupils, their teeth bared.

"Hold your fire!" they snarled. The arrow snapped in their fist.

"Why should we?" the third voice retorted. "Show yourself!"

D caught Adrian by the shoulder, pushing them down. He shook his head faintly, then stood and stepped into the light. Squinting, all he could make out through the ragged hole in the shutter were the silhouettes of the two big men on the other side. The headlights of their massive vehicle blazed bright and steady at their backs.

"Oh-oh. It's you."


	20. hypnotised

The shorter of the two men asked, "What're you doing skulking around in a dirt heap like this?"

"Erring on the side of caution."

"Yeah, fair enough. There someone else in there with you, D?"

"Yes."

"They friendly-like?"

D glanced to the side. He could just make out the faint outline of Adrian crouched to his right, their sword in hand. Their golden eyes still had the ring of red blazing in them.

"More than I am."

The man nodded at his brother. "Kill the lights."

The minute the lights cut out, sheer darkness flooded back in, becoming a solid wall once more. The image of the two men remained burned into the back of D's retinas. It took him a minute or two to blink it away and to find the button to open the shutters.

By then, the rest of the caravan's crew had come back. All told, eight humans gathered near the hood of a massive atomic bus. They were a motley crew of mixed gender, coming in all shapes and sizes and colors.

They murmured amongst themselves until their boss waved his hand and barked, "Hush up!"

D stepped out and sheathed his sword. "Your crew's grown, Borgoff."

"Yeah, well, safety in numbers and all that." The big man grinned around his cigar as he stowed his arrows and loosened his bowstring. "You happen to know what took this town?"

"No."

"Were you hired out here?"

"Passing through."

Behind D, the spell unraveled and a cold breeze gusted outwards. He looked back to find Adrian standing with their back ramrod straight. They kept a hand on their sheathed sword as they stepped up beside D.

"Oh, another half-biter, is that it? You going up north?"

"Not yet."

Nodding, Borgoff moved forward, holding one hand out. Up close, it became apparent that he wasn't wearing gloves or sleeves. Rather, his arms had been replaced by mechanical limbs from the shoulder down. "I'm Borgoff Marcus. This big lout here is my brother, Nolt."

Nolt gave a little salute with his staff. "Good to meet you."

Waving his other hand to indicate the rest of the group, Borgoff added, "The others are our crew." He glared around at them. "If they know what's good for them, they'll get to work!"

The group scrambled into action. A few darted off into nearby buildings to collect supplies, while others clattered around the vehicles, doing small checks and maintenance with practiced efficiency. Even Nolt trundled off, leaving only Borgoff standing before the dhampirs.

Nodding with satisfaction, Borgoff turned his attention back to Adrian. "And you are?"

Adrian looked down their nose at the offered hand but did not accept it. "Alucard."

Borgoff laughed. "I thought you said she was friendlier!"

"I didn't say by how much," D murmured, watching Adrian's face.

Until that moment, it had not really occurred to him to assign a gender. To his mind, unless someone made a big deal about it, it simply did not matter. He had no interest as he never lingered in one place long enough for intimacy.

Adrian's expression became pinched. "Do you always assume everyone prettier than you is a woman?"

"Ha!" Borgoff rubbed at the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. "You dhampirs make it hard to guess."

"Keep guessing." Adrian turned towards D. "Are we still leaving tonight?"

D nodded, just slightly.

The assumed danger turning out to be old rivals turned allies did not mean the urgency of pursuing the castle had gone. He chafed knowing how many days they'd lost while he slept. The countenanced carbuncle used to get him back on his feet within hours.

Borgoff leaned forward on his toes, brows rising. "What's the hurry, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Were _you_ hired on a job out here?" D asked.

"You planning on getting in the way?"

D lifted a shoulder. "We have bigger fish to fry."

"Then I don't mind telling you, since we're on such friendly terms now."

Something about the way Borgoff said that suggested it wouldn't take much to end the tentative truce that had existed between D and the Marcus Clan ever since the incident surrounding the Elbourne's missing daughter.

D met Borgoff's gaze with cool indifference. Beside him, Adrian tipped their head back and stared, disdainful but maintaining their silence.

"The Capital hired us to track down missing libraries," Borgoff said.

"There's more than one?"

"Oh, did you see something?"

"It's by town hall."

"You help yourself to it?"

"Will the Capital miss an electronic reader?"

"Just one? Probably not." Borgoff smirked. "Not our business what's missing from 'em anyway. We're just looking for 'em and whatever's been hijacking 'em."

"Sorry to say we don't know anything about it."

"Sure." Pulling the cigar from his mouth, Borgoff tilted it to inspect the smoldering tip. "Say, instead of rushing off, how about traveling with us to the next town?"

Instead of immediately answering with a _no,_ D glanced sidelong to Adrian. They met his gaze with the slightest eyebrow raise.

"We might not be going the same way," D said.

"We've been hearing some strange reports going northeast."

"Such as?"

"Say you'll ride with us to the next town." Borgoff waved his fist back and forth, trailing smoke. "You don't have to protect us or anything, but your aura would save us a lot of effort."

"...Fine."

"Good! Then, it seems that, aside from libraries going missing and this town being mysteriously empty, whole sections of land are just flattened. Everything gone for miles."

"Ah."

"That's it," Adrian muttered.

Borgoff flicked the ashes off his cigar. "You know something about that?"

"Noble tech gone haywire." D turned away. "You'd best not follow it, unless you want to get caught in it."

"Unrelated to the libraries and this town?"

"Probably."

"If you say so, then we'll turn aside after Renfield." Borgoff chomped at the end of his cigar, then shrugged, hands spread wide. "Leila's got us on another job anyhow. Maybe we'll meet up again if your mark keeps taking you north."

D nodded as he re-entered the stables with Adrian at his heels.

Continuing the conversation would only give Borgoff ideas. The man was a cutthroat who would pursue potential profits to his last if left to his own devices. Leila frequently despaired of it in the few letters that found their way to D.

Making his way over to the horses, D roused them from standby mode.

Adrian leaned against the side of the stall, arms folded and one foot planted against the wall. "That was more than you've told me this entire time."

D glanced over his shoulder, towards the stable doors. Borgoff was gone, presumably to oversee his crew. None of the humans lingered to listen in.

"It's a long story."

"Is that so." Adrian tapped their fingers against their upper arm. "Seems like an equal exchange of information works with you, but only from certain people."

"I gave you an ereader."

"Oh, I see. You intended to distract the nosy bastard with a shiny toy." Pushing away from the wall, Adrian paced away, then back, crowding up into D's personal space. At almost a head shorter, they had no choice but to glare up at him. "Can it tell me anything about you or your Sacred Ancestor?"

"...You seem jealous."

Adrian's face went pale, then dark. To their credit, they did not recoil or shout or make denials. "What," they said, flat.

Changing tactics if only to keep Adrian floundering, D asked, "Why did you call our mutual friend Hector?"

"...Why do you need to know?"

"Why do you need to know about me?" D countered.

"Because we're _traveling_ together!"

To that, D had no answer. They stared at one another for a long moment, cold indifference versus heated annoyance.

D looked away first. "Where did you put the feed?"

Adrian sighed, loud and exasperated, and stalked away, waving one hand in the direction of the back room. They went to the corner to go over their bags. Things needed to be unpacked and re-packed to make room for the plush dog, the computer and toolkit, and other pilfered supplies.

Later, after D had fed and watered the horses, Adrian settled on a crate to glower at their ereader, and the bustle of the caravan died down for a few precious hours of sleep, D spread his saddle blanket out. Soft dawn light crept in through the open stable doors and the holes Borgoff made in the walls.

The urge to break the silence seized him, though the reasons why eluded him. "We competed for a job."

Adrian blinked. "What?"

"The Marcus Clan and I."

"...Are you... willingly telling me something about yourself."

"Don't make this weird."

Sitting up, Adrian drummed their fingers along the edges of the ereader. "So, are you going to tell me any more than that?"

D's throat closed up for being put on the spot. He laid down with his back to Adrian, saying nothing for several moments. Memories of the breathless chase after the black carriage assaulted him. His nostrils flared as he sucked in a sharp breath.

"D?"

"...Someone else should tell this story," D muttered. "We'll meet her, later. Leila."

Adrian sighed, disappointment renewed. "Fine, whatever."

D heard the thump and creak of them slumping back against the wall. When he stole a glance over his shoulder, it was to find them glaring at their ereader as if it had personally offended them.

Closing his eyes, D pretended not to feel a little guilty.

Around midday, the Marcus brothers and their crew roused. They spilled out of their vehicles in fine spirits, making a lot of noise and breakfast.

D cracked one eye open as the smells and sounds hit him. He was somewhat surprised to find Adrian sound asleep on their bedroll less than a foot away. Their face scrunched up as they began to wake.

Quickly, so as to not be caught staring, D got up. He rolled his saddle blanket up and donned his hat, cloak, and sword.

"Ugh." Adrian rubbed at their eyes. "What time is it?"

"Time to go."

"You're not riding with them?"

"They'll catch up."

"And breakfast, are we skipping that?"

"Eat on the road."

"Ah." Adrian stood, sweeping their hands through their hair to get it off their shoulders. "Then you agree to eat."

D narrowed his eyes but made no protests. He hauled his saddle over and all but slapped it onto the back of his horse. Quickly if a little stiffly, he went through the motions of securing saddle and bags, then marched his horse out of the stables, leaving Adrian to fumble through their own affairs.

"Hey, D!" Nolt called out with an easy smile on his craggy face. "Leavin' already?"

Not slowing, D walked his horse right on by, heading down the street. "I assume you have business to finish up here."

"Yessir. See you on the road."

Adrian hurried out to join D by the time he passed through the town gates. "Were you planning on having _me_ catch up, too?"

"You already did."

"Oh, fuck you."

Rounding Adrian's horse, D made a brief check of the saddle. He tightened the flank cinch to ensure it wouldn't slip later. Otherwise, Adrian seemed to have done a passable job and D could see no reason for them to be annoyed.

D returned to his own horse to mount up. "Our target still heading northeast?"

Sheltered from prying eyes between the horses, Adrian pulled the golden key out. As before, they smeared blood on it. The thing levitated, spun, and pointed in much the same direction as it had during Adrian's first demonstration.

Adrian wiped the key off with a lacy handkerchief, then returned both to whatever hidden pocket. "Seems like it."

Pulling at his reins to swing his horse around, D said, "Let's go."

He gave Adrian a moment or two to get mounted before kicking his horse into a trot. They rode down a road that curved around the perimeter of the town. Along the walls above them, the various damaged turrets and cameras swung to follow their progress.

Once the road left the town behind entirely, D gave his horse a little more leeway, letting it pick up the pace. He looked back to check that Adrian's was functioning correctly. The other dhampir seemed to be having no difficulty keeping up.

Because of the castle, the landscape flattened out and the road petered off. There was nothing out there for miles. The horses galloped smoothy across the flat, empty plain, kicking up dust clouds in their wake.

About an hour out, untouched trees loomed in the distance. D slowed the horses to a walk. Adrian took the opportunity to ride closer, side by side.

"Riding feels different, now," they said. "What did you do to it?"

"Better or worse?"

"No complaints, though I'm sure to feel it later."

"You'll get used to it."

Adrian scoffed softly and leaned to rifle through their saddlebags. Predictably, they pulled out a small, wrapped package. It contained a stack of hardtack, the kind that contained sunflower seeds.

D took the one he was given and bit into it. The synthetic taste of nutrient-infused flour stuck to the roof of his mouth unpleasantly. The sunflower seeds kept getting stuck in his teeth. He swiped his tongue to loosen remnants of the biscuit between slow bites.

Quiet laughter made him squint at the other dhampir.

"You look like a dog struggling with peanut butter." Adrian smirked around their hardtack. "I wonder what we might have eaten if we'd joined the Marcuses..."

"Grease and char."

"Sounds incredible."

"Inedible."

"Do I detect a hint of _fussiness_ about what you eat?"

"I don't need to eat."

"Oh, is the introduction of food why it took you four days to recover from injury?"

"...Unrelated issue."

Adrian wagged their chunk of hardtack at him. "I assume you're not going to tell me what that issue might be."

"The castle... took more out of me than I expected it would."

The answer, though not complete, seemed to draw Adrian up short. They tilted their head, lips parted, and eyed him with open curiosity and awe.

Wordless, D hooked his thumb under the chain of his amulet, lifting it. The cracked blue orb glinted in the afternoon sun. The center remained cloudy and dark.

Adrian leaned towards D and braced their hand against his saddle horn. "Hmm, that's a lot of damage. What did it used to do?"

The sun's warmth seeped through D's leathers. D dropped the amulet and glanced away. "Disabled some Noble technologies."

Thinking on it, he did not relish needing to deal with the defenses of Noble lairs the hard way. Some were easy enough, such as the laser eyes that reacted only on movement. Others would be quite difficult to survive, like the countless satellites that littered the orbit of the planet, forming rings that could be clearly seen at certain times of the year.

"Do you know what it's made of?"

"Not as such, no. It was... a gift."

Adrian hummed and shoved back to settle into their own saddle properly. They chewed their hardtack in thoughtful silence for a while.

Far behind them, dust clouds appeared on the horizon. D finished the last of his hardtack and washed it down with water, unbothered by the cloud's rapid approach. It could only be the Marcus caravan speeding to catch up with them.

Their late start would keep them out on the road well after dark but the Marcus Clan had never cared for the conventional wisdom of hiding behind walls come nightfall. It was one of the many things that gave them an edge over other wouldbe hunters. Only dhampirs outclassed them and even that was a rare feat.

Adrian twisted in their saddle to watch the caravan roar by. The atomic bus blared its long, loud air horn twice. The other two echoed it, each one a different pitch. The vehicles kicked up a hard breeze that tugged at hair and cloaks. Dust billowed around the two dhampirs.

"So much for riding together," Adrian muttered, between coughs.

After the noise of engines dwindled, D said, "It won't matter until dark."

"Such friendly people on this Frontier." Adrian pulled their hat off and fluffed their hair with one hand, a futile attempt to set it to rights. "If you dare trust me, I might know a spell to analyze your broken amulet."

D looked over at Adrian, fingers tightening around his reins. "Is that so?"

Putting their hat back on, Adrian nodded. "Mmhm. For the low, low cost of telling me who gave it to you."

That stopped up D's words, snagged them on the backs of his too sharp teeth until all his thoughts seemed to splinter apart and die. He floundered inwardly while outwardly his expression remained as blank as ever.

The longer his quiet lasted, the more disappointed Adrian looked.

They frowned with a quiet sigh. "I thought not." Snapping their reins, they urged their horse to ride on ahead.

The utter silence rang in D's ears. He glanced down at his left hand but no hoarse, chiding voice teased him for being at the mercy of his emotions. Only he alone knew the depth of them.

Which, of course, meant that it fell to him to give voice to them, instead of relying on a parasite to speak up.

Groaning under his breath, D tucked his nose into his scarf and slouched in his saddle. The internal battle of whether to close the growing distance between himself and the other dhampir gnawed at his insides, hot and uncomfortable. For better or worse, they would be stuck together until the job ended.

D put his spurs to his horse's flanks.

With its new programming, Adrian's horse compensated for their lack of skill, seamlessly leaning into the tilt of their body to keep them from spilling. At slower speeds, it took small, mincing steps that kept its gait entirely smooth. Sitting upright with the reins loosely gripped in one hand, Adrian resembled the Nobility they both descended from.

The horse picked up speed at Adrian's urging. Unfortunately for them, D had put in a temporary failsafe. The moment that his horse came into the smaller one's line of sight, it adjusted its pace to match D's. He pulled on the reins, easing them back into a trot, then a walk.

Adrian frowned down at the horse when it did not respond to either a kick or the snap of reins. They turned that frown on D. "What did you do?"

"I told you I would reprogram it, didn't I?"

"So, what, you want to maintain total control over _everything_?"

He did, but what he said instead was, "I'll remove the failsafe when you know how to ride."

"When you deem me worthy _and_ trustworthy, you mean."

D's left eyelid twitched, the faintest flutter. "No."

Yanking hard on their reins, they stopped their horse entirely. "Then what! If you didn't fucking mean it that way, you would have told me about this failsafe beforehand, instead of rushing over here to assert your dominance!"

Dizzy with the sharp downswing the conversation took, D could not think of what to say. He let his horse wander on a few more steps before remembering to stop.

"...My creator," he blurted, helpless.

"What?"

"You asked where the amulet came from. My creator claimed it was..."

"I'm sorry, your _creator_?"

"The Sacred Ancestor."

Cautious, Adrian rode a little closer, one hoof beat at a time. They stopped near enough to D that their legs almost touched. Given the vast difference in size between their horses, Adrian had to tilt their head back to peer up at him.

Old, muddled memories bubbled up in the back of D's thoughts, hazy and distorted, exactly as they'd been in life, seen through chemicals and glass. The woman was and was not real. Surely, he imagined the look on her face.

His voice sounded faraway to his own ears. "I was told the... woman who _donated_ her DNA to my creation intended the amulet as a gift for her firstborn." Quieter, he added, "I was not the firstborn."

"...You're telling me... that this Sacred Ancestor is, what, your father?"

D inclined his head.

For some reason, Adrian sucked in a breath. Their pupils grew quite large, then narrowed down to sharp points. "I see," they said, fierce and hot. "I will find a way to fix your mother's amulet."


	21. i caught

Come dusk, D and Adrian pulled up alongside the Marcus caravan.

The atomic bus cruised along at a lazy fifteen miles per hour, the windows cranked down. Borgoff had his arm draped out the passenger side window. He streamed smoke from his cigar and grinned on seeing the dhampirs.

"Gonna be a nice night."

D did not answer. He glanced up at what little of the sky he could see through the canopy.

The twisty, narrow road snaked its way through spindly, lichen-draped pine trees. Thick shrubbery crowded every available space between the trees, making it difficult to see anything but the road itself. When night fell, the caravan's visibility would be limited to the range of their headlights.

Solid ground gave away to soft mud and shallow water that deepened the further in the caravan progressed. Much of the water's surface was so covered in plants that it looked like grass. The bushes thinned out and pine trees surrendered to bald cypress with fat roots. The thick stench of sulphurous swamp permeated the air. The temperatures rose and humidity made D's clothes cling to his back.

The swamp sang with life: the continuous croak of frogs, buzzing of insects, and distant cries of night birds just waking up.

Adrian leaned towards D, brows up. "We haven't ridden that far, but the climate's changed entirely..."

Given that he had already shared one of his deepest, darkest secrets, D found it easy to say, "Read up on weather controllers."

"Using the ereader as a shortcut? Was _that_ your plan all along?"

"It's efficient."

Adrian laughed quietly, a sound almost drowned out by the caravan's engines. They had relaxed significantly since earlier. An easy-going truce lay between the two of them, one that D was reluctant to put strain on.

Thumping his fist against the side of his door, Borgoff flicked on the atomic bus's headlights. The other vehicles followed suit. One by one, the humans rolled up all their windows, preparing for full dark. They fell in single file, speeding up to get ahead of the dhampirs.

D gently tugged at his reins until he no longer rode in the last car's exhaust cloud. Of course Adrian's horse followed suit unprompted.

"We're letting them go ahead?"

"For now," D said. "Unless you prefer to ride with lights at your back."

"Not particularly."

"Don't fall off when the trouble starts, and I'll remove the failsafe."

"How kind." Adrian flicked at their coat lapels. "You realize, of course, I could cheat and levitate."

"Don't."

"How are you going to make me?"

"I won't. You'll only be setting yourself up for the same of falling off later."

"Maybe I'll levitate the whole time!" Haughtily, Adrian tossed their head, nose upturned and hair flying.

D glanced sidelong, eyes narrowed. "How long can you keep it up?"

"As long as it takes to satisfy you."

Instead of dignifying that with a response, D snapped his reins. The horses broke into a gallop, trailing after the caravan as it raced down the road at blistering speeds.

With full dark, the swamp fell deathly quiet. All the small creatures of the day retreated as the denizens of the night roused. The roar of engines and thud of hooves disturbed strange, pale creatures up in the canopies or in between the roots, glimpsed only fleetingly.

Out over the open water, faint blue lights bobbed like stars. Monstrous reptiles stirred in the depths. Now and then, one would lunge up and snatch a light, snuffing it. D knew this from experience more than saw it-- the only indication of it happening were a quiet splash, a rippling of the surface, and then dark and silence.

Weak starlight filtered through the canopy. Combined with the caravan's lights ahead, D could make out more than enough detail to guide the horses around the occasional bump or dip in the road.

He could also see Adrian. Sitting upright, the reins held loosely in one grip, they kept one hand on the hilt of their sword. With a grim, focused expression, they watched the edges of the road. Their hair streamed like a silver banner behind them. The pale horse suited them, as did the night.

Shrouded in darkness as he was, D knew the only thing visible on his own person was his face. He inhaled a deep lungful of humid air and held it. On the exhale, his aura oozed outwards, as inky and black as his cloak. It draped over Adrian, and crept to encompass the tail end of the caravan.

And the night cried out, stillness broken. Lesser creatures screamed as they fled from the ghastly aura. Braver ones drew themselves up in challenge but could come no closer.

The atomic bus blasted its horn. Before it, the road appeared to be littered by motionless lumps. The vehicles barreled right through, rattling and bouncing. The lumps crunched and burst in sprays of blood and gore. D kept his eye on the road, avoiding what he could and letting the horses jump the rest.

More and more of the things filled the road until there was no choice but for the caravan to ride right over them. The horses fell behind, unable to climb over the slick, bloody surfaces. D reined his horse to a stop and watched the caravan dwindle in the distance.

Adrian pulled at their reins, making their horse dance back further. "Eugh, what _is_ this?"

One of the lumps groaned, a distinctly human sound. With hair rising on the backs of his arms, D twisted in his saddle to look.

The things unfolded themselves in stiff, jerky motions. Corpses, one and all, their milky eyes blinded by death. Their skin sagged on their bones. Some had gruesome injuries from being run over--broken limbs, burst skin, and more--but seemed not to notice. The fetid, rotten stink of them cut through the stink of swamp.

Before D could think to answer, Adrian grumbled, "Oh, zombies. Charming."

Their silver sword hissed out from its sheath and went flying through the crowd, mowing them down in a graceful arc. D drew his own and spurred his horse into the gap created.

With Adrian following close behind, they cut their way through the unliving mob. Yet, it was slow going. For every zombie they cut down, two more seemed to rise up.

The sheer press of bodies became so great that even the caravan had to stop. In short order, D heard the blat of a machine gun and the crack of pistols. The two dhampirs caught up with the caravan just in time to avoid getting pinned by a hail of arrows.

Borgoff laughed, big and loud, as he reloaded. "A nice night indeed! Thought we'd lost you back there!!"

Out in the thick of it, Nolt swung his massive staff around. The strange humming sound it made grew until it became a painfully high pitched whistle. The blasts of air he generated formed a perimeter around him that cut down any zombie that pressed forward.

Adrian launched themself from the back of their horse. They glided as smoke between the grasping hands of the undead. Their body twisted and wings snapped out, knocking away several zombies. Then they and their sword streaked through the crowd, leaving afterimages in red. Blood rained down in their wake.

D spun his horse around. It reared up and smashed its huge hooves through the skull of one zombie and came down on a second, crushing it. Then it surged forward, trampling through to cut another bloody swath. D lashed out with his sword on either side, severing heads and limbs alike. Behind him, Adrian's horse followed, kicking and biting anything that came near it.

Between the two dhampirs, they mowed down enough zombies to make a path large enough for the caravan to keep going. Borgoff shouted orders and the humans pressed on, slow and steady. Those with pistols and rifles kept firing from the windows.

Inch by inch, the group fought their way forward.

D became so caked in gore that as it dried, he found it harder to lift his arms. His horse slowed, too, straining against the infinite blindly reaching hands tugging at its tail and mane and the tightly packed bodies lurching together shoulder to shoulder in a solid wall of rotten flesh.

Overhead, Adrian kept swooping down again and again to drive the zombies back. They were clearly running out of steam though, no longer able to blur through the air fast enough to generate afterimages, no longer able to let their sword fly with such deadly precision.

The caravan came to a stop again. Someone clambered up onto the roof of the atomic bus to man the machine gun.

Borgoff's voice boomed through the loudspeakers: "Get outta the way or eat lead!"

Knowing it wasn't an idle threat, D reached back with one hand to seize the reins of Adrian's horse, then spurred his towards the side of the road in a desperate lunge. They soared over the heads of the zombies. Thick, clumsy fingers trailed along the horses' flanks and bellies, unable to get purchase. A hand snagged D's cloak and he cut it off at the wrist.

The spray of bullets ripped through the spot D had just been, mowing down countless zombies. A bloody mist and fresh splatter of gore rained down as the machine gunner continued to tear through the pack. The atomic bus rolled forward, an unstoppable wall of metal and firepower. Any zombies the gunner missed were crushed under the bus's wheels.

The crush of bodies thinned out just as the swamp did.

Wearily, D urged the horses to trail after the caravan. Adrian dropped from the sky, landing somewhat gracelessly in their saddle. They gave a vicious kick to a stray, one-armed zombie, knocking it over.

"Is that... the trouble you were expecting?"

"No." D frowned down at a still twitching leg, severed from its owner above the knee. Come morning, the sun would burn it all away. "Usually _living_ dangers in the swamp."

"Seems we were lucky to join the others, then." Adrian made a face as they peeled a gob of flesh with long, stringy hair attached off of the shoulder plate of their horse. "I doubt we could have made it alone."

"Not easily."

On the other side of the swamp, pine forest closed ranks on either side of the road once more. The road ran straight, beginning a gentle ascent up a hillside. They passed only a few lone zombies, easily picked off.

The horizon before them lit up with a faint, hazy glow. It should have been from street lights but the smell of smoke hit D's nose.

The horrific miasma of something unearthly and fundamentally wrong hit them a second later. D's horse shied back from it. If not for its new programming, Adrian's horse might have thrown its rider and fled-- as it was, it balked at being urged forward.

The atomic bus suddenly veered off the road. The hydraulic brakes hissed and screeched as Borgoff slammed them. The person manning the gun toppled from the roof, breaking their neck.

The other two vehicles shrieked past the bus, swerving wildly. One smashed into a tree and the other crashed through the bushes before meeting a similar fate further in. Flames flickered between the trees as the second vehicle's engine went up in smoke.

"D!" Adrian pointed skyward.

Hanging fat and heavy in the sky, just below the thin sliver of moon and right above Renfield, was a gargantuan orb. Huge, leathery shapes resembling feathered wings jutted out from it in clusters. Its surface writhed grostesquely and as D stared up at it with his lips parted, pieces of it dropped away. Bodies tumbled through the air and smashed into the rooftops below.

A long tendril snaked out from the mass. It appeared to be comprised of hundreds of separate metallic orbs, connected by the crackle of a sickly green energy that arced between each like lightning. The claws at the tip spun as they uncurled. The tendril reared back, then snapped forward, snatching a body from the ground. It shoved the body into the orb. Other tendrils came out to do the same, collecting all its lost pieces with horrific efficiency.

Few things surprised D anymore but he had never seen anything like it.

Adrian stood in their stirrups, teeth bared. "What the hell is one of the Legion doing out here!?"

"You know what it is?"

"One of the castle's... less savory defenses." Adrian sank back down onto their saddle. "I don't understand how it got out here, or when, but it's probably why Lost Hope was empty..."

Watching the tendrils more closely, D thought of the EMs scattered around Lost Hope. Maybe those had been the town's attempt to resist, and not traps set for looters, after all.

"How do we kill it."

"Knock away enough of its stolen bodies to get at the heart."

Saying not one word more, D kicked his horse into motion.

When it balked, he battered its senses with his aura. Cowed, the horse reared, screaming, then barreled forward in a wild, bucking charge as if it could throw him. He hung on until its gait steadied out into a full on gallop.

D was winded already and his limbs trembled from exertion as he leaned into the horse's movements. Yet, he could see no other recourse but to fight, as he had always done.

The sight of the pale horse racing at his right came as a surprise. D expected Adrian would hang back and rest. Instead, they tucked their body against the back of the horse, wrapped one hand in the mane, clung with their knees, and glared up at the monstrosity in the sky with their sword held straight and low behind them. If not for the failsafe keeping their horse in line, they might have left D in the dust.

As the two dhampirs blurred past the atomic bus, the back door burst open. Borgoff and Nolt tumbled out. The former shouted something, snatched away by the wind.

The two horses leapt over a heap of rubble, all that remained of the town's perimeter. Then they clattered up the street, dodging falling bodies and parts.

The road turned sharply left. A solid brick building loomed before them. D urged the horse into the turn but vaulted off and hit the wall running. Adrian streaked after him, snagged him by the arm, and hurled him up to the rooftop. He landed in a crouch.

Adrian landed next to him. "Can you fly?"

"Not a bat."

"You'd better figure out how to be one quickly, then."

"Impossible."

The thing Adrian called Legion floated far out of reach. D scanned their surroundings but all the buildings in Renfield were short, squat things, probably designed to survive strong winds and foul weather. Not even the water tower was tall enough.

Watching one of the Legion's tendrils stab downwards, D noticed there was a moment when the surge of energy around the orbs stopped. The power visibly crackled only when the limb moved.

"Can the tendrils be broken?" D asked.

"Only at the core, unless you jam the current somehow..."

D touched at the cracked amulet tucked into the folds of his scarf. Perhaps it _could_ have an effect on the castle's defenses, just like any other creation of the Nobility. A useless, futile thought.

"Options?"

"You're honestly asking me for input, here?"

"Your castle."

"You can make your aura into a solid thing, can't you?" Adrian spun their sword but not as smoothly and quickly as usual. "If you can't fly, then climb."

Their form swirled upwards, merging with the rising smoke from fires scattered across town. The shape that emerged was not quite a bat and not quite humanoid. Only the wings seemed complete--massive, leathery things that flapped slow and steady, blowing smoke away. The sword hung somewhat listlessly at their side, the tip angled down.

As Adrian flew towards the hideous orb, D raced along the rooftop and jumped between buildings. A tendril came down and smashed through an orange tiled roof off to the left. The thing rooted around inside for several moments. D reached it just as it started to pull back.

Biting his tongue, he filled his mouth with blood. It ran in hot trickles down his chin and neck, staining his scarf. The coppery taste and smell did nothing but whet his appetite. His fangs ached as they extended, his eyes burned as everything came into too sharp focus and clarity, and his body trembled as it was pushed past its limit. The aura oozed out from him, an inky, dark shadow that chilled the air.

He hurled himself at the tendril, fast enough that the wind shrieked in his ears, hard enough that he dented an orb on impact. Power seeped through his aura and sparked across his skin like static.

As the orb began to sink, D jumped to the next one. His aura cut through the current, neatly severing the orbs from one another, and they fell, crashing through the roof. D had no choice but to keep climbing, faster and faster.

When D reached the top of the tendril, he sprang up into the air, cape and hair flying. Electricity coursed up his arm as he drew his sword. It arced outwards and skittered across the squirming surface of the orb. He smashed into the side a second later, scattering blood and gore every which way. His strike barely made a dent.

Across from him, there came a high pitched shriek as Adrian slammed against the surface. More blood sprayed out. Adrian clawed their way back up into the sky for a second pass.

The whole orb writhed, making a deep, grating noise that rattled D's teeth. Its wing-ling limbs fluttered uselessly.

Countless hands reached up blindly, grabbing at him as he waded across the surface. He stomped down on them. Bones crunched, sending a vicious thrill down his spine. The chilling guilt about his vampiric instincts to crush and destroy would come later, later when there was not an impossible foe before him, later when his blood did not sing for more, more, _more_.

Adrian kept smashing into one spot, drilling a hole through the solid, squirming mass of flesh. D reached the edge of the crater just in time for them to make another hit, splashing blood down D's front.

Overhead, the other five tendrils thrashed. The claws at the end spun, parts unfolding to reveal glowing, sparking insides.

"Look out!" Adrian cried, their voice strange and high and rusty. They kicked off from the orb, weaving through the air to dodge through the tendrils.

D tipped his head back to watch the tendrils crowd together into one blazing, blinding white knot of energy, all of it aimed directly at him. He waited, listening closely as the humming grew and grew and grew, until it was all he could hear. Even his thoughts were scattered and distant, his entire being focused down to pure instinct.

The humming gained a whining edge. At the last second, there came a brief flicker of blue. D kicked off from the surface, throwing himself to the side, right before a column of blazing light scored through the crater and came out the other side of the orb. The laser hit the ground with an explosion that billowed outwards. Huge clouds of smoke and debris and ashes darkened the sky.

Legion _screamed_.

The tendrils jittered wildy, orbs flying loose as the current gave out. Pieces flew wide, crashing through walls and roofs, splintering trees, and leaving craters in the roads. One set of claws spun and sheared its way through the top of an armored carriage to become lodged into the ground on the other side.

Corpses rained down, limbs flailing, and splattered on the ground. D tumbled head over heels in the thick of it, disoriented but so very alive. His heart hammered in his chest, blood roaring.

Something solid slammed into him, hauling him out of the torrent of bodies. He clung to it, feeling bristly fur under his fingers. Powerful muscles worked, struggling to keep them aloft.

"Damn..." Adrian's breath came out in harsh pants. "That was too-- too risky."

D looked up, marveling at a shimmering pink glow hanging in the air above, encased in a gilded birdcage. It seemed so out of place in the thick of all the horror collapsing around them.

Then they were falling.


	22. your reflection

He crashed through the treetops. Branches and bones snapped in tandem and he hit the ground with one final, sickening crunch. Pain flooded through his core, radiating out from ribs and shoulder and arm until every last nerve pulsed with sickening, dizzying agony.

Wheezing softly, he clenched his fist and made a brief but quickly aborted attempt to sit up. The pain rocketed upwards and dark fog overtook his sight. His stomach seized with the threat of vomit if he tried again. Bile burned at the back of his throat.

If he lay perfectly still for a while, the symptoms eased but not the pain. That seemed simultaneously strange and perfectly ordinary. Why did he think he should already be healing? He needed blood and rest.

A sweet eternity of rest, locked away where none could ever be harmed by his cursed blood ever again. He closed his eyes, intending to let it take him right then and there. Perhaps animals would find sustenance from his wretched corpse.

Something blundered through the woods. It came trampling through the brushes, seemed to stomp on every branch it could find, and gasped when it found him.

He opened one eye and before him stood a blurry figure of a person. Recognition eluded him but he knew the scent, knew the voice.

"Alucard...!"

 _Maria,_ his heart sang, contemptible thing that it was. He should not find joy in her presence. She deserved so much more, light and joy and love and laughter.

He felt as if he were split in two-- the one who did not know her and the one who did --and this was familiar to only one of them. They were twins, and he was not alone, and there was always another voice in his head.

His other half insisted that could not be right. He fought against it, against the pull of the girl's hands as she hauled him up.

"Shh, shh, Alucard, it's only me. Come on, let me look after you."

They let go, surrendered to her, as they had always done.

Pink light surrounded them and he knew it was a dream and they needed to wake up but he could not bring himself to move. There was a comforting weight against his side, the other half of his heart beating still even though they hurt all the way down to the smallest atom.

Maria smiled down at him, laugh lines framing her mouth. "Wake up, sleepy head!"

Groaning, he lifted his hand to shelter his eyes from the sun slanting through the windows. "What... time is it?"

"Time to see to your patients."

He opened his mouth to say, _I can't,_ because he'd never had a patient in his life, never done anything but kill and destroy-- but what came out were the words of his other half: "Give me a few moments, won't you?"

"Sure. I'll have breakfast ready!"

She left him, like the day she went out to the market and never came back. They had a fight the night before.

"I can't," he'd said, "I can't give you what you want."

Because she always looked longingly towards the church, chin her hand, eyelashes fluttering closed, smiling as the wedding bells tolled. Because she laughingly told Annette that she wanted two children but that she wasn't picky about the genders. Because she never courted anyone but harbored a half-vampire in her home.

Because he was, despite all his mother's best attempts, never going to be a man in the eyes of society, in the eyes of the Church that burned her, nor in the eyes of the gods above. He was a monster at best and an abomination at worst.

He grappled with this, too, feeling himself shying away from his other half not out of revulsion but sheer confusion. His body was wrong. It was too short, it had too many scars, and it was... it was empty. It had never known the presence of another inside it. It was _alone_.

One by one, everyone this body had ever known faded away. They faded like the scars on his real body, leaving no trace that any of it had ever happened.

It was a nightmare that was not his and she left them because:

"I have to go back to the castle."

"Why does it have to be you!?" Maria slammed her hands down at either side of her plate. "Why can't you find someone else to do it? Or let it go, the Belmonts will take care of it."

"They may not always be there."

Her eyes widened, mouth forming an 'o' shape. It was sacrilege to imply that the eternal house of Belmonts could not endure forever. Well, they were only humans, after all.

She sucked in a sharp breath, then accused, "You just want to run away! Like always..."

"Maria..."

"We'll talk about it in the morning."

They never did.

He slept in and she went to the market. She vanished, never to be seen again. He looked for her, he really did, but she was just _gone_.

 _I'm here,_ she whispered. _I've always been here._

"Where," they croaked, two voices as one. "Where did you go?"

_Where you needed me most._

Months after her disappearance, they stood in the castle.

In the liminal space between one master and the next, it had sunk into the depths. They were the next best thing. It crooned softly, reacting to their will, their thoughts, acting in ways they felt were just, and in ways they never noticed until it was too late.

It rumbled beneath their boots, beginning to wake. Soon, it would go in search of a new master. Its true master, the strongest of all vampires. _A_ Dracula, whether by blood or power or both.

They strode down empty halls, coat swirling around them, and hastened to the engine room to feed it their blood. The castle quieted, soothed but only temporarily. To keep it trapped, they would need to cage it in slumber. Or feed it. They shuddered at the thought of how many innocent lives would need to be given to the eldritch engine. No, they would sleep, for there was no reason to be awake.

And as they lay in their glass coffin, encased in ice, she watched over them.

Her heart pulsed inside the cage. Driven by the maddening pop and crackle of dark magic goading her, she jerkily rose up on her tendrils and crawled up from the belly of the castle.

Each time the castle surfaced, she went out to harvest. She always came back before the Belmonts could find them, her body bloated with screaming victims. The engine roared with pleasure and submitted to sleep when it had its fill.

And still they slept.

Ignorant of the sacrifices she made for them. Ignorant of what they had done to her by virtue of never wanting to let her go yet never letting her in. Ignorant.

The horror of it all jarred him apart from his other half. He felt anew the agony of being split down the middle. Screaming but making no sound, he thrashed in his tank, slamming his fists against the glass.

D jolted awake to smoke in his lungs, rotten flesh squelching under him, and hoarse, ragged sobs beside him. Blindly, he reached out, still caught in the muddled confusion of _being_ them. His heart ached with a hurt that was not his own. Tears slipped unbidden from his lashes and tracked down through the grime on his cheeks.

He dropped his hand away at the last second.

"I- I-" Adrian choked on their words, hunched over something bloody clutched tightly in their hands. It gave one last quiver and fell still. "I... did this..."

To D's eye, it looked like a faint silhouette of the girl lay in Adrian's arms. She laid her hand against their cheek, smearing blood.

Then she was gone, released from eternity.

Adrian doubled over. The heart slipped from their hands. It flopped into their lap, little more than a grotesque lump of meat now.

They dragged bloodied fists up over their face as tears fell. Futilely, they tried to muffle their sobs. Their pain escaped unbidden in sharp little gasps and hitches as their mouth worked, fangs gnashing. They tangled their fingers in their hair, pulling, and shook apart at the seams, their sobs rising in volume.

Numbly, D looked out over the devastation. The pair sat on top of a mountain of corpses. All the mechanical pieces of Legion lay strewn about. Nothing of Renfield remained but smoking ruins. It was doubtful a single soul survived.

It was just the two of them and the yawning abyss of guilt and agony that lay between them.

Mired in emotions and memories that were not his own, D floundered. He rose on unsteady legs, swayed there a moment, then picked his way over the pile of corpses to collect their swords.

The comforting weight of steel helped, if only a little. As did rubbing his thumb against the metallic buds adorning his sword hilt. Curiously, the texture of one of the buds felt different. It had begun to unfurl, revealing delicate lines of overlapping petals.

To the backdrop of Adrian's sobs, D stared numbly at the little metal flower. He thought of Maria and he wondered if she had a favorite flower. It seemed like something girls were told they should have a preference on.

D sheathed his sword. Then he shuffled back to Adrian, holding their sword out. "Did she like flowers?"

The question brought an abrupt halt to Adrian's wailing, though the tears continued to flow. Adrian's face, hideous in its mask of blood, snot, and tears, tilted up towards D, brows scrunched and mouth opened.

"Wh. What?"

"The girl. Maria."

"You're... asking about _flowers_ , right _now_?" Adrian swept their arms out wide to indicate the destruction all around them. "Who fucking cares!"

"You will."

Adrian snapped their mouth shut.

At the bottom of the hill, D spotted their horses milling around. Further down the road, he saw the atomic bus pushing its way through the wreckage. One of the other cars limped along behind it.

"We should go," D said.

"Is there any point."

"The job's not finished. Our grief must keep."

" _Our_ grief? What do you know about any of this, you're _empty_!"

Soft, D said, "Yes."

It must have been the correct answer because all the fight went out of Adrian. They hunched their shoulders, head down, and nodded. It took them several minutes to work up to moving. D did not push them. He merely stood there, sword in hand, gaze distant, and waited.

Because he was empty and they were alone.

Gingerly, Adrian scooped up the heart, cradling it against their belly with one arm. Then they got up, finally accepting their sword.

As the two of them climbed down the hill, Adrian said, "I want to bury her. Not here."

"Alright."

D caught their horses. Neither seemed to have suffered any harm, though they pulled at the reins and refused to be brought any nearer to the heap of corpses. They shied a little when the atomic bus pulled up.

"Oi, what the hell happened?" Borgoff shouted from the driver's side window. "The whole town's got up, lost a couple of my crew 'cuz they went off rails, and, damn, you look like hell!"

"Legion."

"S'that what that thing is called? Never seen anything like it. Anymore of 'em around?"

"Don't know." D rummaged through his saddlebags and emptied out one of his waterproof pouches. He gave it to Adrian. "We part here, Borgoff. Don't linger long."

"Yeah, no, we're splittin' before this gets pinned on us."

Adrian slipped the heart into the pouch and pulled the strings taut, knotting it. Instead of stowing it in their saddlebags, they secured it to their belt.

"Come... daylight, even the machinery should disintegrate, with no power to hold its shape." Their voice sounded beyond tired, rusty and thick.

"Good." D swung up onto the back of his horse. "Let's go."

As the two dhampirs rode away, Borgoff shouted, "See you up north, D!"

D lifted his hand but did not look back.

Truth be told, that far away snowy sanctuary in the north would have been the best place for Adrian. Thousands of miles and hard terrain lay between them and that safe haven, though. The best D could do was guide them further east, leaving Renfield behind.

They rode on through the night without stopping.

Adrian all but slumped in their saddle, saying and seeing nothing. Even when D snagged their horse's reins and tied it to his saddle horn, they made no protest.

Renfield was surrounded on all sides by pine forest and swamp and gently rolling hills. The well-tended roads forked in many directions, with signage to keep travelers from getting lost.

Near the edges of the swamp, D spotted a familiar name on a sign pointing south--Point Dulac. Without hesitation, he turned the horses down that road.

As the first streaks of dawn colored the sky, they left the swamp. The pine trees around them thickened and towered overhead. The air cleared, becoming crisp and clean. The sound of hoof beats on the road became muffled by a blanket of pine needles.

"D."

D eased the horses back, gradually allowing them to slow to a walk. "Yes?"

"I need to stop."

"Hold on a little longer."

Adrian sighed. "How long?"

"I don't know," D admitted. "Another hour, and we'll stop."

Nodding, Adrian laid their head against the side of their horse's neck. "Alright. One more."

For five minutes or so, D allowed the horses to cool off by continuing to walk, which let Adrian continue to slump like a broken doll. Then he clucked his tongue, rousing all of them. Adrian sighed again, sitting up grudgingly. The horses all but pranced to be allowed to run again.

On they rode, for just one more hour.

Dawn melted away with the rising sun, taking with it the fog and chill that clung to the ground in the shadows of the forest. The trees parted. D pulled at the reins, halting the horses atop the crest of a hill.

The road curved sharply downwards, and there, spread out at the bottom of the valley, lay Lake Dulac, hedged in all sides by Point Dulac and well-tended farmlands.

"Might take us a little longer."

"Oh." Adrian perked up a little. "...That's okay, I suppose." They glanced sidelong at D with a wan smile. "We look disgusting. Are we going to get chased out by pitchforks and torches?"

D lifted a shoulder. "I have friends there."

"Actual friends?"

"Yes."

"Hmm... didn't know you had it in you."

"I don't." D faced straight ahead, aware that his face and voice were as expressionless as ever. "People just decide these things."

Adrian scoffed a weak bark of laughter. Then they frowned, cupping the pouch tied to their belt. "It looks like a nice place."

"I assume it is."

"These friends... could they be trusted to look after Maria's grave?"

"Yes."

Nodding, Adrian hauled themselves upright, making a real effort to sit properly. "Then... let's go scare the locals."

D tapped his heels against his horse's flanks with a soft 'tsk'. It went without saying that they probably shouldn't intentionally frighten anyone.

The road split at the bottom of the hill. They turned off the main road, following meandering country roads around the west side of the lake.

The only people to see them were farmers too busy with morning chores to stop them. One or two hurried off towards their houses though, probably to call the local authorities. Sighing softly, D let his aura ooze outwards as a deterrence.

Their destination was a remote hospital campus overlooking the western shores. Ten foot brick walls topped by spikes and electric wire surrounded the property. Additional security measures included laser turrets and cameras activated by motion sensors.

The bronze plaque next to the gates read, _Knight Medical Center_. Adrian tilted their head towards it. "Your friends are in a hospital?"

"They run it."

"Not planning on checking me in and leaving me here, are you?"

"If you want to stay here, I won't stop you."

"How kind."

D dismounted in front of the gates. He pressed the call button on the intercom button and waited.

The intercom crackled, then a tinny voice said, "State your name and business."

"D. Here to see Doctors Tsurugi and Knight. Authorization code: Malta 44-36."

The voice on the other end said nothing else.

A chime sounded and the gates swung smoothly open. Beyond lay tasteful landscaping, brick pathways, and fountains surrounding a trio of multistory concrete buildings. A few people roamed the grounds--doctors, nurses, and their patients enjoying the sun.

D walked his horse through the gates. Adrian slid from their horse to follow. The gates shut right behind them, locks clicking into place.

"Should we really be here, given our current state of..." Adrian gestured broadly between the two of them, nose wrinkled. "I'd hate to contaminate a place of healing."

"It's fine."

D led the way around behind one of the smaller buildings. Connected to the back was a combination garage and stable, the doors wide open to allow them to walk right in. The cameras in the upper corners followed their movements as D stabled the horses.

"You should leave Maria here."

Adrian took a step back, hand resting against the pouch. "...Rather not."

"Questions will be asked."

"Then I'll stay here."

D thinned his lips out.

Before he could decide whether or not to argue further, the doors at the back of the garage hissed open. A woman with long, dark hair and two men in green scrubs entered.

The woman smiled, her eyes sparkling, and hurried over, arms outstretched. She stopped short of touching D, smile fading to a frown. Lifting her hand before her mouth, she touched all fingers but her index finger to her thumb, then brought it down and back up in two tight little circles. Her mouth down turned and her nose wrinkled as she tucked the back of her palm under her chin and wiggled her fingers.

D put his fist to his chest and rubbed it in a clockwise motion.

Loudly clicking her tongue at him, she shook her finger. Then she turned towards Adrian, head tilted.

"Adrian," D said, quickly fingerspelling the name. "This is Lori Knight."

Stiffly, Adrian gave a little bow, one hand to their chest and the other to their lower back. "Pleased to meet you."

Lori clapped her hands together, then gave a little curtsey of her own, using her white lab coat in place of skirts. She was older now than when D first met her but no less prone to youthful cheer.

Then she straightened and signed, [(Are) You hurt?]

D shook his head and repeated one of Lori's earlier gestures: the back of his hand under his chin with a wiggle of his fingers. [Dirty.]

[Always.] Her smile returned as she motioned for them to follow. [Bath plus room.]

"Only bring what you need," D told Adrian. He retrieved a change of clothes and the pack of plasma capsules from his saddlebags, using a rag to keep from smearing filth all over them.

"And if I said I need her?"

All too aware of the two nurses watching from either side of the door, D dropped his voice to a near whisper. "I thought you were worried about contamination."

Adrian scrunched their brows up, working their jaw side to side. Finally, sighing as if deeply wounded and aggrieved, they untied the pouch from their belt. It went into the bag in place of Cezar, still wrapped up in a glamor spell.

Once Adrian retrieved a change of clothes, Cezar, and the ereader, they joined D and Lori at the door. She smiled brightly at them, then whirled away to lead on.

The group passed through a security checkpoint comprised of a short hallway with one-way mirrors on either side and several layers of metal doors at the end.

On the other side, Lori took a right, striding down a long hallway lined with doors on the left and windows overlooking the back gardens on the right. She waved off her escort on reaching stairs at the far end.

Then she took the two dhampirs up one flight of stairs, to a nearly identical hallway. She brought them to an empty room at the far end.

The room came equipped with an adjustable bed, a small couch that could fold out into a makeshift bed, a thin wardrobe, a flat screen monitor on the wall above the wardrobe, counter space with a sink and cupboards for medical supplies, and an adjourning bath and toilet.

Lori entered first. She flicked the lights on, then went straight to the windows to pull the blinds and curtains closed.

[I('m) work(ing),] she signed. [(If you) Need anything? Call (the) nurse.]

D flattened his palm and touched the tips of his fingers to his chin, sweeping it outwards. Adrian imitated, making Lori beam at them.

With a little waggle of her fingers, Lori left.

"I'm surprised you sign," Adrian said.

"It became a necessary skill to have." D set his change of clothes on the edge of the counter. He shrugged his sword off and propped it against the nearby wall. "Take the shower first."

"Alright." Adrian hesitated, tugging at a blood-caked strand of hair. "D..."

D looked at them.

Shaking their head slightly with gaze averted they said, "Never mind," and retreated to the bathroom.

With the click of the bathroom door ringing in his ears, D strayed towards the windows. He pulled the curtains back a crack to watch ordinary humans meander around the grounds, unaware of the monsters that lurked on the property.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sign language is being presented in [] brackets, with additional context that is not actually being signed in () parenthesis to avoid it reading strangely in English. It is based off of American Sign, as that is what I know.


	23. in the neon

Later, after a scorching hot shower and a change of clothes, D scrubbed all their filthy things and hung them to dry in the shower stall. He left their boots propped in the bathroom sink. Belts were left draped from the towel rack.

He stepped out of the bathroom to find Adrian curled up on the couch with the plush dog held tight against their belly. Their ereader lay face down next to their head. A thin line of sunlight fell over them. They opened one dull gold eye to watch D from beneath their hair.

"Food?" D asked.

"Hah. Funny to hear Mr. I-Don't-Need-to-Eat ask that..."

"I won't ask again."

"No." Adrian propped themself up on one elbow. "Please don't stop on my account."

"Yes or no."

"Do they serve blood bags for thirsty half-vampires?"

D snorted. "I have plasma capsules."

"Ugh." They flopped onto their back, one arm thrown over their face. "This is a bland, tasteless future."

"Do you _want_ to drink blood," D asked, voice flat.

The palms of his hands itched. He glanced sidelong towards his sword, still propped against the wall across from him. Maybe it would be kinder for everyone to put an end to things here and now.

"If voluntarily given, yes. We've discussed this."

D exhaled. Some of the knotted tension in his shoulders eased. "You're not going to ask any of the patients here."

"Gods, no."

"The hospital needs its supply more than we do."

Adrian flapped their hand. "Yes, yes. Summon room service and ask them if they have a tray of bland hospital food to spare, that I may sustain myself on equally bland plasma."

D went to the bed to pick up the dangling controller hanging from the rails. Aside from buttons for the monitor on the wall, it had a large red _Nurse_ button and an intercom speaker. When pressed, it lit up and made a loud, annoying beep.

"It's nice to know modern hospitals haven't changed much," Adrian muttered, rubbing at their ear for dramatic effect.

The nurse's voice came through the speaker a little garbled and tinny. "Nurse's station. Can I help you?"

"Would it be possible to get breakfast?"

"Sure." A pause; D heard the faint clack of keys and rustle of papers, as well as the nurse's breathing. "Mm, I don't seem to have a patient listed in that room?"

"We're guests of Dr. Knight's."

"Oh. Do you have any dietary requirements?"

Adrian, in the background, mouthed something that looked a lot like, _I want to suck your blood,_ complete with curling their fingers before their mouth in a facsimile of fangs afterwards. Unimpressed, D fluttered his lashes in the faintest eye roll.

"No, whatever the default meal is fine."

"Alright. I'll let the cafeteria know."

"Thank you."

The line went dead. D released the remote. It fell, clanging off the rails, and swayed back and forth from the cord connecting it to the wall.

"Only one tray?" Adrian narrowed their eyes.

"Do you have much appetite?"

"...No."

"Nor do I." D walked over to the cupboards to rummage through. He found a stack of disposable paper cups and filled one with water. Adding a plasma capsule to it, he brought it over to Adrian. "Bland sustenance and sleep."

Adrian delicately accepted the paper cup with two fingers. "Why, you're almost _nurturing_."

"Don't get used to it. Probably remnants of the shared dreams."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Instead of replying, D went to fix himself a cup of plasma.

After he'd downed it, he flicked the paper cup into the trash, found himself a comfortable spot to lean against the wall, and waited in silence. Adrian lay back down and rolled over so that their back faced D. Their breathing evened out, suggesting sleep.

Some time later, there came a knock at the door. A person in blue scrubs poked their head in, smiling. "Breakfast time," they said, but quietly.

D straightened from the wall and moved to accept the plastic tray. "Thank you."

As he carried the tray over to the couch, Adrian sat up, folding their legs under them. They eyed the tray with sleepy disinterest.

Breakfast consisted of a plate of unsalted cubed potatoes vaguely fried, limp pink meat that tried to emulate bacon, fluffy yellow eggs lacking any seasoning, a bowl of soggy mixed fruit, and damp toast burnt at the edges; a small carton of goat milk; a small box of artificial grape juice; and a handful of ketchup, salt, and pepper packets.

D set the tray on the cushions next to Adrian and started to back off.

"Wait." Adrian waved their hand towards the other end of the couch. "Help me eat this."

Wordless, D sat down so that the tray lay between them.

Together, they picked their way through the food. It wasn't the worst thing D had ever eaten but he found himself wishing they had been given a few more packets of salt.

"Foxglove," Adrian said, out of the blue.

D looked over, one eyebrow rising in silent askance.

"She liked foxgloves. I never gave her any because we weren't..."

Nodding, D understood. "You don't have to say it."

"...I suppose I don't."

When they finished eating, D carried the tray over to set it on the counter. Then he helped Adrian pull out the couch mattress. As they sprawled out on their belly, D took the hospital bed.

The two dhampirs slept, separate and with their own dreams.

D woke once, late in the afternoon, to find the couch empty with the sheets spilled out onto the floor. The bathroom door was shut. Through it, he heard the muffled sounds of sobbing.

He did not move, only held his breath and listened. When it abated some, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

Dusk brought a gentle knocking on the door.

D opened his eyes just as the door opened a crack, spiling a long, thin strip of light into the room. He squinted and raised his hand to shield his face. The mattress creaked and the sheets rustled from the couch.

Lori poked her head in, then ducked it and rubbed her fist against her chest with a sheepish smile. She pushed the door open a little wider. [(Did) I wake you?]

Though D bobbed his fist in affirmative, he swung his legs off the bed. Lori took that as invitation to enter the room. She glanced past D as she reached for the light switch. D looked over his shoulder to find Adrian sitting up on the couch mattress, the dog in their lap. Two gold eyes and one blue watched him.

Standing, D motioned at Lori. [Wait.]

She dropped her hand away from the switch. Head tilted, she motioned towards the door.

D nodded, then waited until she had stepped out and shut the door behind her. He rounded the bed to stand in front of the couch. "...Cezar's not hidden."

"The spell wore off." Adrian shrugged, rubbing their hand between the dog's ears.

"Don't suppose you can cast it again."

"Not without reagents."

"What do you need?"

Adrian sighed. "...I'm tired, D." They shifted Cezar from their lap, then slid from the fold out mattress. "This has been a lot of hard riding and fighting on poor sleep and food."

"The plasma--"

"Isn't enough."

D turned in place as Adrian moved past him, heading for the bathroom. "Then what? Are you going to be like our bloodthirsty forebears after all?"

" _No_." Adrian spun back with their hair flying. They bared their fangs. Red light filled their eyes, sharp and hot. "I will never sink to such!"

In their fury, they looked so like a monstrous Noble that D could not help but flick his gaze towards his sword, out of reach against the far wall. Adrian must have noticed, for they folded in on themselves, arms tight around their middle.

"Some comfort you are," they muttered.

D said nothing.

"You keep questioning me. What about _you_?"

Still, D said nothing, but he crossed the room to stand in front of Adrian.

"What makes you so much fucking better than me? Don't tell me you don't think about it..."

"I didn't."

"Bullshit."

D rolled his left sleeve up, all the way past the elbow. They stared at the offered limb then up at him. Their brows scrunched and mouth pursed, confusion made plain.

"The more we strive to be whole, the more difficult balance becomes."

"...What?"

"I was fine, with just the capsules," D said. He unfurled his left hand, revealing the lineless skin. "Because I had outside help."

"You're being obnoxiously cryptic."

"Sorry. I'm not any good at comfort."

The corner of Adrian's mouth twitched. "What's with your hand? Did you burn all the lines off in acid or something?"

"...Memories of an old friend."

Blinking, Adrian straightened and let their arms fall to their sides. "...You know, it's really unfair that you got to see my-- _her_ memories, and I don't know a damn thing about you. Except that you suck at talking."

"I'm empty, remember?"

"Yeah, but what does that even mean?"

"...I had a twin."

"Oh."

"And then a parasite."

"What."

"In my hand."

Adrian looked at D's hand, brows rising. "What," they repeated. "This conversation has taken some strange turns that I don't even know how to... And your friend, she's been pacing outside this whole time."

"Lori will probably like Cezar."

"You think so?"

"But you shouldn't let a dead dog roam around a hospital."

"Probably not."

D flexed his left hand. "You gave me blood, before."

"You needed it, after throwing yourself into a blender for my sake. A habit I've noticed you do far too often."

"If you need it."

Adrian blinked. "Are you offering me a nibble, D?"

Tucking his chin, D lifted a shoulder. The idea of having fangs anywhere near his skin made his stomach clench. "You said you'd use a needle, if it was voluntarily offered."

"Much more sanitary. The kinds of things you get up to, I'm liable to catch something, putting my mouth on you." Adrian reached out to tug D's sleeve down. Somehow, they managed to do it without touching him directly. "Thank you."

"You don't want it?"

"I don't _need_ it yet. I'm just being emotional."

Most people, D knew, would have come up with something reassuring to say. His mind went blank. Not a single word came to him. His fingers twitched. Usually, at this point, the countenanced carbuncle would needle at him, or say something embarrassing to keep the conversation going.

He really needed to figure out how to live without it.

"Let's not keep Lori waiting any longer." Adrian offered a thin, tired smile, and then retreated to the bathroom.

D turned to eye the dog, who'd curled up on the mattress with its eye closed. He thought it had the right idea. Unfortunately, keeping Lori waiting any longer verged on outright cruelty after she went out of her way to shelter them.

Moving across the room, D turned the lights on and opened the door. Lori froze midpace. With laugh lines crinkling at the corner of her eyes, she made brushing motions near her hair.

D sighed. He seriously considered shutting the door in her face. [Not dirty,] he signed, backing away to allow her entry.

[Your hair (is a) nest.]

Rather than endure any more badgering about it, D gathered his hair up and wound it into a loose, messy bun. Lori crept closer, leaning one way, then the other to inspect him. She raised a hand with one finger extended but stopped short of touching him with her eyebrows raised.

D nodded, reluctant.

Smiling, Lori tucked a loose chunk of hair behind his ear. [Cute!]

The touch left shivery little sparks that crawled across his scalp pleasantly. D's ear twitched and he glanced away. He could not remember the last time someone had touched him _with_ his permission.

"Well, either she's bold as brass or you're very fond of her indeed." Adrian leaned in the bathroom doorway with their arms folded. "Our boots are still damp."

"She's married."

"And I take it you never asked her partner for consent?"

"I don't--" D shook his head. He was not going to humor that line of conversation any longer. "You're just going to have to deal with damp boots."

"Ugh."

Lori flapped her hands to get their attention. [(Are) You hungry? Come eat (with) me!]

"She invites us to dinner," D said.

"Oh, bland food with cheerier company!" Adrian smiled at Lori. "I'd be delighted, provided you're not going to skimp on the translations."

Sighing, D nodded at Lori, then went to collect his boots and belts. They were still damp, just as Adrian said they would be. He saw no reason to don his hat and cape; Lori would heckle him for trying to hide behind them at the dinner table.

When he came back out of the bathroom, it was to find Lori kneeling on the floor with Adrian standing over her with hands on their hips. Cezar propped its paws on her thigh, its stumpy butt waggling fast enough that it became a blur. She laughed silently, little more than breathy wheezes.

"You were right." Adrian smirked at D, head tilted. "This time."

[Cute!] Lori gestured at Cezar, grinning up at D. [No dogs (in) hospital.]

[Sorry.]

[No!] Flapping her hands, Lori rose to her feet. She motioned between D and Adrian, then signed, [Keep (the) dog here. I won't tell Tsurugi.]

"She says Cezar shouldn't leave this room."

Adrian stooped to scoop Ceazar up. They bounced the dog a little to situate it in their arms. "Oh, of course. I'd hate to have an adorable undead abomination running amok among sick patients."

D held his fist up near his head, then flicked his forefinger up. [Understood.] Aloud, he said, "Get ready to go."

While Adrian carried Cezar over to the couch and told it to, "Stay," D retrieved his sword. Lori tilted her head with a knowing look but made no comment.

As soon as Adrian had their sword, boots, and coat, the three of them exited the room. Lori made a broad sweep of her hand to indicate that they should follow, then led them down the hall. They passed one or two patrolling nurses but no patients. Most of the doors were closed, though several lay cracked open to reveal patients sitting abed with their suppers, some with assistance, some without.

Lori led them downstairs and then out a side door. They passed through a sheltered walkway, the main building's lobby, and then out through one more walkway, putting them all the way across the campus from where the dhampirs were staying.

The sign beside the third building's door declared it to be the _Permanent Residence_. The interior felt more like an apartment than a hospital. Every door had a number and a peephole and almost none of them were open. The few that were showed ordinary living quarters occupied by someone in need of a little more assistance to survive the Frontier, usually the elderly.

Though there were two elevators in the lobby, Lori took the stairs all the way up to the third floor. She kept pausing a few steps ahead of D to check on them, as if she expected dhampirs to get winded. Or distracted with the prospect of easy prey, D's mind supplied, dark and sour enough that he almost expected to find the countenanced carbuncle laughing at him from his palm.

The top floor seemed to be entirely occupied by staff. Beneath the numbers on each door were nameplates with names and positions. The double doors bearing Lori and Tsurugi's names were at the very middle of the floor, on the left hand side.

Someone had painted an elaborate, colorful tangle of flowers and birds along the bottoms of the doors. D's eyes softened at the sight of it. He remembered all too well the dull-eyed look on Lori's face when he first met her. She'd grown into a lively woman, filling the world with kindness and color where she lacked sound.

Lori knocked on, then unlocked the right door. She entered and held the door open for her guests, one arm outstretched.

The smell of spices assailed D's nose as soon as he entered. Glancing back, he saw Adrian trail their finger along one of the winding loops of a painted vine on the door.

D looked around the spacious apartment as Lori shut the door. The main room had an assortment of rugs strewn over wood floors, shelf-lined walls filled with books, photos, and knicknacks, and several pieces of well-worn furniture, including a pair of armchairs near the windows overlooking the campus grounds.

Through a door to the right lay a small kitchen and a large dining space, from which the smells emanated. D trailed after Lori to find Tsurugi stirring a large pot of something lumpy and brown on the stove.

After leaning down to accept a kiss on his cheek, Tsurugi spun towards D. His face lit up in a wide, close-mouthed smile. "Oh! She succeeded in dragging you along, after all! It's good to see you, D."

"And you."

"And hello, a new face." Tsurugi looked past D, head tilted, then glanced down at Lori's hands as she gestured and fingerspelled. "Adrian, is it? A pleasure to meet you. I'm Tsurugi, Lori's husband."

"Likewise," Adrian murmured. "Thank you for having us."

"It's no trouble. Have a seat, curry's almost ready." Casting a sardonic look at D, Tsurugi smirked. "Though if you won't eat, I've got salsa booze to entice you with..."

As D walked over to the table, he said, "I'll eat." He pulled a chair out to sit with his back to the wall, where he could see the door in front of him and the windows to his right.

"Oh, really?"

"Only because I'll be nagged if I don't."

"That sounds like the words of a man with a... lasting partnership, my friend."

"Ugh, please," Adrian muttered, flopping into the chair next to D. They palmed their chin, fingers curled over their mouth to mask their grin. The squinty look they cast at D was all mischief. "I would never stoop to being this bastard's partner."

"This only raises more questions," Tsurugi said. "You'll have to fill us in on what you've been up to, D."

D folded his arms and tucked his chin. "Nothing much."

"That's what you always say."

"Then you'll just have to loosen my tongue."

Laughing, Tsurugi nodded.

He let D and Adrian alone for a bit, his attention divided between cooking and signing with Lori. From what D could tell, he caught her up on the conversation, and then they chatted about their day, so quick that even he had trouble following it.

All the while, Lori got out dishes to set the table, fetched bottles and pitchers of drinks, then went through the motions of preparing several quick side dishes, like a leafy salad and sliced okra tossed in soy sauce and seasonings. The presence of two dhampirs at her table fazed her not at all.

By the time Tsurugi brought the pot of curry and the rice cooker over to the table, it was laden with more dishes and drinks than D knew what to do with.

Adrian inhaled as they gazed over the table. "Incredible... I was beginning to wonder if cuisine had all but died out."

"Ruby made soup for us," D pointed out.

"Yes, but that was mostly blood and bone. I wasn't invited to her dinner table for the rest."

Tsurugi pulled a chair out for Lori, then sat next to her. "You two are looking peckish." He held his hand out for a plate. "Let's get the edge off those appetites, then we can swap stories."


	24. on glass

Even after everyone ate their fill, there remained enough food to feed multiple families on the table. Lori and Tsurugi made short work of putting everything away.

Then, after shooing their guests into the sitting room, Tsurugi trotted out the promised bottle of salsa booze and Lori brought shot glasses, which she passed out as soon as Tsurugi filled them.

"Now then," Tsurugi said, slouching into one of the armchairs with a satisfied sigh. After taking a very tiny sip of his drink, he gestured. [You owe us (a) story.]

[Many stories,] Lori added from the other armchair.

The two dhampirs sat on the couch across from the chairs. D practically wedged himself against the arm to keep as much space between himself and Adrian. It wasn't enough. Every little movement threatened to brush their legs together.

D downed his drink, then held his glass out for a refill. He downed that, too. The spicy alcohol burned on the way down and brought tears to the corners of his eyes. He flicked them away with the backs of his fingers.

Truth be told, he could drink the whole bottle and still want more. The effects of alcohol barely fazed him. The ability to get well and truly roaring drunk, or at least comfortably numb, was something he envied a great deal. There was no chance that Tsurugi had more than one bottle; it was made in an entirely different sector and acquiring a single bottle would have cost him a pretty penny.

When Tsurugi lifted the bottle, brows raised, D laid his hand over the top of his glass with a slight head shake. He would abstain until the others finished and he was invited to polish the rest off, as was customary for his visits.

Adrian coughed, nose wrinkling up, after their first sip. "What the hell _is_ this, turpentine and tabasco?"

"Salsa booze," D said, over the sound of Tsurugi's quiet laughter and Lori's wheezing.

"Salsa, as in the dip?" Adrian tilted their glass to peer at the reddish liquid. "Are you telling me people ferment tomatoes and peppers."

"There's a tomato wine called omerto."

"Really. Not pulling my leg for a laugh, are you?"

"Do I look like I know how to joke?"

Smirking into his glass, Tsurugi said, "I don't know, you can be quite funny when you put your mind to it, D."

D sighed.

Because she was being left out of the conversation, Lori flapped her hand and shoved Tsurugi's shoulder. He grunted and very nearly spilled his drink, already starting to get tipsy from just half a shot glass.

Lifting his hands to get Lori's attention, D signed, [Adrian (has) not drank tomato alcohol before.]

[What! Never?] Lori set her barely touched shot glass aside and leaned forward, looking at Adrian with renewed curiosity. [Where (is) Adrian from?]

"Lori wants to know where you're from," D said.

Adrian swirled their drink, then held it out towards D, pinched between forefinger and thumb. "Some place that probably doesn't exist anymore."

Accepting the drink, D knocked it back, then put the empty glass on the side table. "What was it called?"

"Romania."

"There's a city called that."

"No, definitely not a single city during my time." Adrian shook their head with a broad sweep of their hand. "It was an entire country. The castle stayed in the Carpathian Mountains, then. I can only assume those are gone, too, or forgotten."

As D translated for Lori, Tsurugi murmured, "Just how old are you, to be talking about places that don't exist?"

"I'd rather not say." Adrian smiled thinly. "What were you signing about, before?"

"Before?"

"Before I distracted D with questions about liquor?"

"Oh, that." Tsurugi chuckled. "The price of D's stays is always stories. We don't travel as often as we used to and news is always slow and inconsistent."

"I see. He talks freely to you, then." Adrian raised a brow, shooting a narrow, pointed look at D. "Shall I excuse myself?"

D's hands stuttered to a halt mid-sign. He glanced over at Adrian, then Tsurugi. Shrugging slightly, he laid his hands on his thighs and felt very awkward and small with three sets of eyes watching him.

What stories he might tell in mixed company eluded him. Some things were best not discussed with humans and some he couldn't be certain Adrian could be trusted with. Yet, he knew he could not abstain. Lori's disappointment he might live with but Adrian was on the verge of mutiny.

"Secretive as ever, huh?" Tsurugi said. "Well, it's not like he talks _freely_ to us."

D curled his fingers into loose fists. "I'm _right_ here..."

"Then... tell us about your last job."

"No."

"His last job was me." Adrian brushed their hands down their front, the very picture of indifference. "I'll thank you to leave this mystery alone."

"Oh, sorry. I can guess it was a wrongful bounty, after all." Tsurugi laughed, big and loud and only a little nervous.

"Indeed."

"The job before that, then, D."

"Are you going to translate," D asked.

"You know she won't accept the story secondhand."

Sighing because he would normally only have to use one language for these story sessions, D pointed at Lori. [Later: will you talk (to) Adrian for (a) while?]

Lori bobbed her fist enthusiastically. [Can Adrian write?]

[Maybe.] D turned his head towards Adrian. "I assume you can write."

"What kind of uneducated swine do you take me for?" Adrian scoffed. "Though, I keep wondering how language hasn't changed at all during my sleep..."

"Nobles attempted to eradicate all but two common languages."

As he spoke, D nodded at Lori. She got up from her chair to fetch chalk, a pink rag, and a small slate from one of the shelves.

Adrian sank back into the couch, eyes wide. "That's..."

Leaning his weight onto the arm of his chair, Tsurugi gestured with his nearly empty shot glass. The liquid inside sloshed wildly. "We had a hell of a time finding anyone who still knew how to sign. And we've had to fill in a _lot_ of gaps."

"But what benefit is there to-- no, nevermind, that's a stupid question, isn't it."

D inclined his head.

Adrian touched their fingertips against their chest, head bowed. "Then... I, and the castle's library... are all that's left of countless languages?"

"Unless Nobles hoarded anything for themselves, but that's unlikely."

"We _must_ get the castle back, then. In one piece."

D marveled at how the gold in Adrian's eyes turned molten when they got heated about something. It seemed they always worried about knowledge above all else. The threat of the castle joining the Sacred Ancestor was, for the time being, a secondary concern.

He glanced away, watching Lori settle into her seat again, legs tucked up under her. She set the slate and things onto the side table next to her glass.

"You gonna tell us the story of this castle?" Tsurugi asked.

D exchanged a look with Adrian. "Maybe next time."

Emphatically, Lori flapped her hands at D. [Story!]

"Right."

He could delay no longer. Still, he hesitated.

The thing about trying to communicate using two languages was that they weren't one-for-one exactly lining up. Speaking and signing a single word at once was no big deal but telling an entire story was something else. There was always a kind of lag, shifting between spoken and signed, as D struggled to navigate the rules of both at once.

Deciding that it would be easier to sign first, and then translate for Adrian, D began: [I took (a) job protecting a rum runner.]

[(What about) hunting vampires-- your purpose?] Lori tipped her head, brows raised.

[Vampire property.] D shrugged. [Alcohol (was) prohibited.]

[Why (did) they care about humans drinking?]

D paused, looking at his fingers, splayed out in the middle of the sign for taste. All he needed to do was tap the middle finger against his chin...

"Something the matter, D?" Adrian asked.

"...No." D brought his finger to his chin with the faintest wrinkle of his nose. [Tastes bad.]

Lori's lips formed an 'o' of horrified understanding and she clasped her hands against her chest. Beside her, Tsurugi made a disgusted noise and refilled his glass. He drank it down in one go, as if to affirm that _his_ blood would taste bad.

D did not have the heart to tell them that his frequent presence deterred all but the most determined of monsters. His aura had left its mark on them, for better or worse.

While Lori and Tsurugi grappled with humanity's ingrained fear of vampires, D turned to Adrian. "In choosing to protect the rum runners, I made enemies of the house of Compton. They lorded over several towns in Sector Three of the Southern Frontier."

"How many were there?"

"Seven, plus their retinue of servants and guards." At Lori's hand flop, he filled her in, then continued on, awkwardly signing and speaking by turns. [My employer (was an) old man with (a) glass eye (and a) small, three-legged dog.]

"Sounds like quite the character," Adrian said, at the same time that Lori signed, [(Was) dog cute?]

D paused again, then ultimately settled on nodding. The finer details of how unpleasant both had smelled or the old man's disgusting habit of letting his dog eat right from his supper as he ate it were not ones present company would care for. Nor did he have any intention of telling Lori about all the ways he was injured on the job. He wasn't yet decided on whether Adrian would want to know the gory details.

He labored on to tell them about fighting through ambushes in the night, defeating humans and werewolves and numerous monstrous creatures in the House's employ. Then came the battles against the Nobles themselves, in ones, twos, and threes, until all that remained was the Matriarch herself.

For once, Adrian did not badger with needling questions and accusations. They crossed their legs, propped their elbow on the arm of the couch and their chin in their hand, and listened with eyes half-closed.

Lori leaned with her elbows on her knees, listening raptly. She gestured excitedly, pestering D for more details. Tsurugi slouched further, the effect of the salsa booze catching up with him all at once. Soon, he snored quietly.

At the end of it, D revealed: [(The) man (was a) dhampir. He (was the) last descendent (of) House Compton.]

Gasping, Lori sprang from her seat, pointing. [Sector Three's Lord Compton! (A) dhampir?]

Inclining his head, D watched Lori pace around the room, gesticulating too quick for him to follow.

They were not far from Sector Three, so he could sort of understand her excitement, particularly since the Lord Compton had passed his estate on to an adopted daughter from the far north who was, by all accounts, well-loved by her human subjects. She'd been one of Meier Link's disciples and adhered closely to the belief that those of Noble blood could--and should--overcome their base bloodlust.

Lori stopped in front of D and pointed. [Then! Lady Compton--?]

D nodded.

[(A) dhampir!]

And on she went, pacing and flailing, and only coming to a stop when she noticed Tsurugi was sound asleep. She made a quiet, wheezy sound of fondness, the most she could manage, and then bent to rearrange him.

"Why's she so excited?" Adrian whispered, as though afraid of waking Tsurugi.

"She didn't know the remains of House Compton have been given over to dhampirs."

"I take it we still don't rule in this day and age..."

"No."

"Hmm... You've left a lot out on your story, haven't you?"

"For her sake."

"If you say so." Adrian unfolded themself and stretched, arms high above their head. "Were you planning on filling me in later?"

"I hadn't decided how much you would want to hear."

"Still being controlling, is that it?"

"Not intentionally."

Adrian tilted their head, eyes narrowed.

"I did not come through that unscathed," D admitted. "It doesn't seem wise to brag to doctors that my sense of self-preservation might be in question."

For that, Adrian actually laughed. "Alright, fair enough."

D got up and moved over to stand near Tsurugi's armchair. He gestured at Tsurugi, and when Lori nodded, he bent to scoop the unconscious man up. Lori led him to their bedroom. D left Tsurugi sprawled out in the middle, giving Lori the privacy needed to get her husband comfortable.

Adrian twirled their finger in the air. "He dropped quickly. That's either some potent liquor or he's a lightweight."

"Both."

"Tomatoes." They shook their head slightly. "Never would have guessed. I'm sure Maria's ancestors are rolling in their graves. Wine is grapes only in the old countries, you see."

"I've asked Lori to talk with you for a while."

"Oh? Is that what the slate was for..."

"Mmh."

D drifted towards the windows and stood there, gazing out over the campus. The paths were all lit up, as was the perimeter of the walls. In the darker corners of the gardens, there were motion sensors and infrared that would allow the guards to detect anything that might be lurking.

Adrian rose from the couch and wandered over. "Story time really took it out of you, didn't it?"

"...Two languages are a headache."

Snickering, Adrian squinted up at him. "You don't seem to like talking anyway."

"Not really."

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"For making the effort, of course. I know it wasn't on my behalf, but I'm glad you let me come along."

D was spared from having to respond by Lori's reappearance. She beamed at them, making a broad, fondly exasperated gesture back towards the bedroom, as if to say _what are you going to do?_ without needing to sign. Then she tapped her chest, pointed at them, and then motioned to the kitchen.

"Could use a drink that _isn't_ going to burn my throat," Adrian said.

D translated and Lori nodded emphatically. She pointed at the remains of the salsa booze. More than three quarters of the bottle remained. [You can drink that.]

Thanking her with a slight bow, D collected not only the bottle, but all of the abandoned glasses. He finished off Lori's mostly full glass on the way to the kitchen.

Adrian followed with their hands behind their back. "I've never seen you so eager to consume _anything_. Is it just this, or tomatoes in general?"

"...Tomatoes," D admitted. "And peppers."

"Hmm... I'll keep that in mind."

Lori brought her slate and chalk to the dining table and motioned for the two dhampirs to sit. Then she poked around in the fridge and cupboards. [Coffee? Will Adrian drink? Tea?]

D abandoned the shot glasses on the kitchen counter on his way to his chair. Since he did not need to share, there was no reason to keep pouring the liquor out to drink it. "Coffee or tea?"

"Oh, hm." Adrian took the chair next to D, just as they had during dinner. "Either's fine."

At D's lazy, [Either,] Lori nodded and put a pot of coffee on to brew. From the smell of it, she had the real stuff, not the synthetic grinds shipped from the Capital. It was one of the luxuries that came of living in the South Frontier, D supposed.

Once the coffee was ready, Lori brought the pot, cream, sugar, and three mugs over. She took the seat across from Adrian, poured them a mug, and then tilted the pot towards D with raised brows. He shook his head, lifting his bottle in a slight salute. Laughing silently, Lori poured for herself and set the pot aside.

Then it was D's turn to be left out of the conversation, though not intentionally. Lori pulled the slate over and wrote something on it, then passed it to Adrian. After reading it, Adrian wiped it clean and wrote back.

Except for the occasional huff of amusement and the clink of their mugs or D's bottle on the table, there was only the scratch of chalk against slate.

D found he liked this relaxed silence very much. He slouched into his chair, eyes half mast, and breathed deep and slow. Even when his companions got mischievous, knowing looks on their faces, clearly exchanging notes about him, he remained unbothered.

It was... nice to see them in good spirits. Both of them.

As D neared the end of his bottle, even going as slowly as possible, Lori and Adrian's chalk supply ran out. So too did their coffee and her ability to stay awake, from the looks of it.

Adrian propped their elbow on the table with their chin in their hand. "Now that I know how to soften you up, I'm going to have to invest in some more of that stuff."

"One bottle won't be enough."

"Oh, then is it the company that has you all squinty like a satisfied cat?"

D brought the bottle to his lips and tipped it up, chugging the last dregs. Then he set it down, hard enough to vibrate the table and rouse Lori from dozing on her folded arms. She blinked owlishly.

[Thank you,] D signed. [We (are) going.]

Nodding, Lori rubbed at her eyes and stretched. [Goodnight.]

D repeated the sign back at her as he got up. "Goodnight."

Standing, Adrian did the same, then offered a bow. "I really enjoyed meeting you." They glanced towards D. "I was starting to think the Frontier would be nothing but hard people with harder hearts, Ruby and her family aside."

After D translated for her, Lori shook her head, hair flying. [Only D!]

D did not convey that, choosing instead to walk out on them. Huffing, Adrian hurried after him.

They left the apartment and headed downstairs. Instead of taking the direct route through the buildings, D ventured outside to wander the pathways between hedges and carefully manicured flower beds. He slowed to breathe in the night air.

"She fingerspelled my name all night," Adrian said. "But not yours."

"It's only one letter."

"Yes. I never saw it. Did I miss it?"

D slowed to a stop under one of the lamps. He made a d-shape with his hand, then did a couple of quick circular motions in front of himself.

"Oh! Is that what that was."

"Mmn."

"Are you going to tell me whether it has special meaning?"

"That's what she named me." D lifted a shoulder. "Lonely with a D."

Adrian opened their mouth, then closed it. D looked off to the side, taking an acute interest in a slender, flowering tree nearby. Its buds were all closed up tight, reminding him of the metal ones on his sword. He itched to thumb one but drawing his sword right then did not seem appropriate.

"Oh my gods," Adrian eventually murmured. "That's _hilarious_. Are you lonely, D? Is that why you've agreed to tag along with me on this horrible adventure?"

"I'm not tagging along with you."

"Sure. You keep telling yourself that."

D started walking again. He told himself he wasn't stomping, that he was imagining the too loud click of his boot heels on the stone.

That was a lie.

"You know... We had all sorts of interesting conversations about the adventures the three of you had." Adrian kept up with D's pace easily. They tapped their finger against the side of their chin. The faintest smile graced their lips. "About all the people you've saved."

"What of it?"

"If you keep tarnishing your own harsh, cold facade like this, I might have to rescind some of my statements to the effect of how much of a bastard you are."

"Don't get too carried away."

Adrian laughed. "Alright, I'll stop needling you. Don't pout."

"I'm not."

"I'm mistaken, then."

D slowed, just outside of the building they were staying in. He eyed the other dhampir warily. Things had shifted between them, he realized, and he no longer knew how exactly to deal with it. Keeping his distance by being cold could cost him his literal key to the castle. Maybe more.

With their head tipped back, Adrian closed their eyes. "It's nice here."

"You could come back and stay on as a doctor."

Golden eyes opened and pinned D. "That's strangely kind of you to say, but I doubt it's your place to invite me."

"...Probably not."

"I asked Lori to show me the cemetery in the morning."

"Do you want to be alone for that?"

"No. You're the only other person who remembers Maria as she was." Adrian walked past D, heading for the door. "Even if the circumstances were less than ideal, she deserves more than _me_."

D said nothing, not because he did not care, but because a dozen, snarled up thoughts jumbled together all at once, leaving him floundering in silence. By the time he sorted through it, Adrian had already disappeared inside.

Inhaling, D tucked his chin and flexed his hands. It was another moment that the countenanced carbuncle would have spurred him through.

Next time, he would do better.


	25. an electric silhouette

Morning brought overcast skies and another tray of bland hospital food. As D and Adrian picked their way through it, it also brought an apologetic nurse bearing a note from Lori which said she would be late because she had a patient in critical care. She'd instructed the nurse to give them a map marked with the cemetery's location in case they were in a hurry.

"Do we need to get back on the road straight away?" Adrian asked.

D picked up a squishy piece of fruit that might have once been a synthesized green grape, or something resembling it. "I didn't get a chance to ask Tsurugi for leads."

"Leads?"

"For jobs." D popped the fruit in his mouth and swallowed. There was no need to chew, as it was essentially sour mush. "The problem of plasma supplies remains."

"Ah, right. We won't be able to subsist off food for long, will we? Or you won't, at any rate."

"...Probably not."

If it were an option, D would have given up blood and plasma long ago. Even horrid hospital food would be preferable to the constant threat of giving in to his vampiric nature.

"We may need to ration what we have left," D admitted, though the words felt like spitting up tar.

Idly offering a piece of greasy sausage to Cezar, Adrian gazed out the windows. "I can manage a week or two, but I won't thrive."

Somehow, in the short amount of time he had known Adrian, D had become used to surrendering his limited resources for their sake. Somehow, the idea of denying them, even out of necessity, grated on his nerves.

The whole situation rankled. He felt wrong footed and on edge for reasons he could not name.

"I won't... ask you to go longer than I can."

"Aren't you kind." Adrian smirked at him. "Though I'm curious if this means you've inherited more vampiric traits than I did, or if the vampires of now really are different creatures."

D narrowed his eyes. "Don't express such where humans or the Capital can hear you."

"Noted." Licking their fingers, Adrian cast a sidelong look at D. "Is there really no way to learn more about your Nobles?"

As badly as D wanted to believe Adrian's curiosity was only that, he couldn't. Too often, he'd been turned on after friendly overtures. The friendlier they were, the more likely he was to get burned.

His fingers twitched. His sword was out of reach again.

Cautious, D said, "There are ruins... and bounties have been known to talk, during hunts."

"Is there a reason you're so reluctant about this?"

Flickers of memory flashed by--experiments crawling out of ruins to kill and die, machinery left running until it went nuclear, and far too many covetous people losing themselves to greed. Outwardly, D's eyelid fluttered, and that was all.

"Rare that anything good comes of poring through the knowledge of Nobles."

"Oh, hmm." Adrian laid their palm against their chest. "And if I solemnly swore that I have no interest whatsoever in replicating things that have caused inhumane suffering and loss of life?"

Even though he thought words of bond meant less than nothing, D eyed Adrian for a long moment. "...Swear it on Maria."

"I, Adrian Tepes, sometimes called Alucard, swear upon the heart of Maria Renard, and upon the grave of my blessed mother, Lisa Tepes, that I will endeavor only to better the lives of my neighbors and to always let morbid curiosity go if deemed too dangerous to continue."

"Deemed by who?"

"Well, you're the only one I know that would venture into vampire infested ruins with me, so."

"Ah."

"Is that sufficient enough for you?"

"I'm going to kill you if you get too carried away, you know."

"I'm counting on it."

D tucked his chin, chewing over a piece of gristle from the sausage. Then he nodded. "Alright. Witnessed. I won't stop you if you want to poke around the next time we're near ruins."

"Finally!" Adrian bounced up to their feet, which startled Cezar into spilling off the couch. "Will you answer my questions?"

"...Depends."

"On?"

"The subject."

"Still being controlling?"

"No, there are some things better off forgotten."

Adrian swiped their thumb against their lip, frowning, then nodded. "I have no choice but to trust your judgment." They paced away a couple steps, then spun back. "We haven't encountered a vampire yet, are _any_ of them redeemable, or do you..."

"I'm only hired when someone has been harmed."

"...Then no recourse at that point."

"Almost never."

" _Almost_?"

D folded his arms and turned his head away. At his feet, Cezar bounced against the edge of the couch, feebly trying to get back up.

"D..."

"On... less than a handful of occasions, it's been proven that altercations were accidental."

"And how often have you given them the chance to prove their innocence?"

Saying nothing, D met Adrian's gaze.

"...I see."

The moment that Adrian's mood turned was heralded by a faint darkening of the gold in their eyes. A bloody red seeped out from their pupils, gleaming in the shadows cast by their hair. Even knowing he should say something, D watched in silence as those eyes narrowed and Adrian advanced on him.

"I expected as much," they said, voice low and sharp in a way that sent prickles down D's spine. "You've got some nerve, acting as the arbiter of what I can and cannot know while deciding who lives and dies. What the hell is your problem? Is your Frontier not fucked up enough without adding a warped sense of vigilante justice to the mix?"

"The age of Nobility is past."

"Says who?"

"The Sacred Ancestor."

Adrian flung their arms wide, incredulous and dramatic. "Isn't that who you're _hunting_? Why would you--"

"My task is to put an end to all vampires."

"They are our kind!"

D tucked his chin but continued to stare up at Adrian, not breaking eye contact. "Then we will follow, when my task is complete."

Recoiling, Adrian snapped their mouth shut loud enough that their teeth clicked. "That's..."

"The mercy I offer now is short lived." D pushed himself to his feet, brushing stray toast crumbs from his pants. "Eventually, we all succumb to the call for blood."

"It seems I've underestimated how fucking cold you really are."

D swept past Adrian. "Try not to forget it."

"I think you're full of shit."

Pausing at the bathroom door, D glanced over his shoulder. Adrian glowered at him, fists clenched at their sides and teeth bared. The little dog stood at their side, oddly motionless as it watched with that single glowing blue eye.

"You just don't want to do the labor of getting to know others. Easier to kill them, isn't it?"

The truth pierced through him like a knife. D vanished into the bathroom without a single word in his defense.

Heading for the sink, he turned the faucet on full blast. While he waited for the water to heat up, he made a vague pass at combing his hair and donned his belts and boots.

Then he bent over the sink to splash some water on his face. As it dripped down his cheeks and chin, he cupped his hands beneath the spray and let it overrun. His thoughts overran too, spilling out over one another in a disjointed tangle that fell away from him until he felt empty and hollow.

Tension knotted the muscles in his back. After a few minutes of hunching there, his back twinged in protest. D dropped his hands away and straightened, stretching until the ache faded.

While the water was still running, D brushed his teeth. He stared blankly down at the faucet while going through the motions.

Things may have shifted between the two of them but nothing had changed. D could not trust anyone and instead of letting it get the better of him, he needed only continue on as he always had. In the end, the job would be completed and they would part ways.

That was all there was to it.

When he finished with basic hygiene, D snapped the faucet off. He collected his hat, coat, and cape, pulling them on as he stepped out of the bathroom.

And froze.

Adrian stood in front of the exit with D's sword. Their hands lay folded atop the pommel while the tip of the scabbard rested on the floor. They had their own sword fastened to their belt. The little dog stood beside them, legs stiff and head up, no longer a mere lumpy bundle of joy.

D's instincts screamed for blood. In a split second, he assessed half a dozen ways he could overpower and kill Adrian. Then a dozen more ways he might get his sword back and leave them incapacitated but alive.

His voice came out barely above a whisper: "...Adrian."

"We're going to talk about this."

"About what."

"You're making me swear to be honorable and good, so you're going to do the same."

"Am I."

"You are. I don't know if your word means anything, but you're going to, and you're going to let me try to talk to any vampires we encounter."

"What good will it do?"

"We won't know until we try."

"And if you trying gets someone killed, what then?"

Adrian bowed their head, fingers tightening around the hilt of D's sword. "Then I will take responsibility."

"If I don't kill you, then the humans will."

"That's fine. If I've caused someone else's death with my naive optimism, then I would deserve it."

D clenched his fists.

He thought of Leila with her gun upraised and her eyes blazing, shouting at him to _stop_. Because of her, he showed mercy not just once, but many times after. An entire community of hopeful fools existed now because of that one heartstopping moment that made him twist his blade a quarter of an inch to the left.

Adrian had every right to challenge him. He was being hypocritical and ridiculous for reasons unrelated to whether or not the Nobility were capable of showing some semblance of humanity.

Uncurling his fists, D exhaled. By the inhale, he released all the tension in his body until nothing remained but the faintest tremor.

"Alright."

"What will you swear on?"

D approached Adrian, slow and cautious. He stopped in front of them when he was more than an arm's length away. It was enough room that they could draw his sword and cut him down.

"...I swear on Maria's heart, because it's a common tie between us," he said. Holding his left hand out, palm upturned, he added, "On my task to kill the Sacred Ancestor, bound in blood and yours to take, and on the promise I made to Leila Marcus."

"What was the promise?"

"The same as I'm making now."

Adrian huffed, shoving his sword into his hand. "You fucking hypocritical asshole."

Clutching his sword, D tucked his chin and accepted the assessment of his character without protest. He jammed his thumb against one of the thorns. The sting helped ground him as his world wobbled unsteadily.

"As long as you're stuck with me, we're going to strive for that balance. We're not going to be one or the other because we're both." Tossing their hair and their words over their shoulder, Adrian stalked off to the bathroom. "Even-- and especially if it's difficult."

That left D staring down at the little dog. It gave a tentative wag of its tail.

"...Is that so," he murmured.

The corner of his mouth twitched but he could not tell what brought it on. An unfamiliar warmth made his chest tight. Perhaps he _was_ angry, with no reasonable outlet for it. Perhaps not.

Kneeling, D held his hand out. The dog abandoned its post immediately, all notions of guarding the door forgotten. It all but shoved itself into his hand. He scritched under its chin and along its shoulders and back.

Before Adrian could come back out and catch him, D stood up. He let himself out of the room and leaned against the wall by the door with his arms folded.

A few minutes later, Adrian stepped out, still shrugging their coat on. They swept right past D as they buttoned up and adjusted their hat. "Let's go for a walk, shall we? I'll need reagents for Cezar."

D pushed away from the wall then fell in one step behind and to the right. "What do you need?" He glanced sidelong out the windows. "I don't imagine you'll find a witch's pantry _here_."

"Well." Adrian flashed a toothy grin over their shoulder, more bite than cheer. "Since we're far removed from the usual newt's eyes and bat livers, approximates will have to do."

They headed downstairs and left the building through the garage. On the way through, they passed someone in denim overalls and a cap feeding and watering the horses. Adrian lingered long enough to pat theirs on the nose, slipping it a mushy slice of apple from breakfast.

Then the dhampirs stepped out into the dim morning light. D paused with his eyes squinted long enough that Adrian turned back, brows raised.

"Not going to collapse again, are you?"

"...No."

"Hmmhm. If you say so." Adrian started off down the path that took them around through the gardens between buildings. "I assume when we're finished with your lead gathering, we'll leave..."

Following at a distance, D made a soft affirmative sound.

A few patients and the occasional attendant roamed the gardens, enjoying the brisk morning air. Adrian gave them all a wide berth. A couple people sitting in wheelchairs on an upraised stone patio at the back of the main building leaned forward to gawk, craning their heads around to follow the dhampir's progress.

The gardens appeared to be divided into sections. Behind the main building, it was mostly hedges and trees and the occasional flower box arranged around fountains and benches and other pieces of interest. Near the permanent residential building, it was fruits, vegetables, and herbs in standing boxes.

D heard the faint sound of buzzing and spotted a small beehive way in the back corner of the grounds, sheltered by flowering trees and surrounded by thick clusters of wildflowers. The bees drifted in and out of the produce gardens, unbothered by the residents weeding and pruning.

"It's good to see enrichment offered," Adrian murmured.

"You say that like they're kept."

" _Hardly_! In my time, places like these... well. They tended to be for people that society wanted to forget about."

"That hasn't changed."

Adrian shot D a look, then softened, glancing away. "No, I gather this place is the exception, not the rule." They sighed. "Do you suppose if I asked nicely, they'd give me some of those okra blossoms?"

"Possibly."

D hung back as Adrian approached the person tending to the tall, spiny okra plants gently swaying in the breeze. The blossoms were big, pale white or yellow petals that overlapped to form an octagonal shape with dark red centers. They were pretty, D supposed, though fragile-looking.

The resident eyed Adrian warily until they said, "Excuse me, I was wondering if I could trouble you for some of those flowers."

"Oh, sure! You planning on garnishing or something?"

"Or something. They're very lovely."

"One of my favorites! C'mon."

Grinning, the resident ushered Adrian down the row of okra, just out of D's range of hearing. There, they gestured emphatically between plucking blossoms from a number of plants. Adrian listened attentively as their arms were filled with the flowers. If D had to guess, they were learning more than anyone would ever need to know about okra--and enjoying it.

Several minutes later, Adrian came back with their perennial plunder. With the slightest smile, they shrugged and began carefully tucking the blossoms into their pockets. "A little more than I expected."

"What will you do with them?"

"If I had books, I'd press and keep them for later. Since I don't... I'll have to think of something, now won't I?"

"Suppose so."

"You are the _height_ of conversation, you know that?"

"What else do you need?"

"A different sort of flower." Adrian spun on their heel, hair flying, and walked off down the path towards the beehive. "I've been told I can take some wax, too, if I'm _kind_ to the bees."

Following, D asked, "And are you?"

"What?"

"Kind to bees."

"My mother kept some." Adrian slowed at the edge of the wildflowers. The stone path became dirt as it snaked its way out to the beehive. "Of course, evolution could have run its course by now..."

A fat bee, longer than D's index finger, drifted by. Adrian turned in place to watch it clumsily land on a blue flower. Its sheer size made the flower slowly dip until the petals lay crushed against the ground. The bee jammed itself into the petals with all the grace of a hog rooting through mud.

Adrian clicked their tongue disapprovingly. "...No one thought to plant something sturdier?"

"Just wait."

When the bee wriggled back out, its body caked in pollen, it bobbed off into the sky. The flower bounced back up and visibly shook itself out. As the two dhampirs watched, the petals folded back up, forming a tight bud that prevented any future visitors for the day.

"That's... a rather advanced tropism."

Ever the curious scholarly type, Adrian approached a different flower. They knelt and poked at the petals but it garnered no reaction until they pushed their finger all the way in. Like the first flower, it folded up as soon as the obstruction was removed.

"Will they do it after they're picked, do you know?" Adrian asked.

"For a short time."

"I suppose being a florist requires a great deal of skill, then..."

"Likely." D folded his arms and turned his head to watch a resident with a cane hobble by. "There are plenty of flesh-eating plants to contend with, some worth keeping." As soon as the resident was out of earshot, he faced Adrian again. "Don't you have reagents to collect?"

"You're very driven about _everything_." Sighing, Adrian dusted their gloved hands off, then stood. "We don't know when Lori will be available, so what's the rush?"

"Housekeeping might find your dog while we're away."

"...Ah, damn."

Suddenly all business, Adrian strode over to the beehive. Large enough to accommodate the huge bees coming and going, it was equipped with a semi-automated honey harvesting mechanism and a smoker.

D drifted over to supervise but it was pretty self evident how to operate it. Someone had even gone so far as to engrave instructions on the side of the box. The only tricky part was replacing frames.

The bees themselves were docile enough. A few landed on D's shoulders and hat, investigating. One particularly adventurous one found his scarf and spent several minutes exploring the blue and yellow stripes.

Adrian checked the smoker and found it already loaded with an aromatic bundle of herbs and kindling. They closed the lid then turned the valve. A small flame hissed to life at the base of the smoker. Soon, the bundle caught flame and smoke puffed out on all sides of the box. By turning a dial, Adrian could set how often the smoker activated. Another button activated the bee escape.

After the buzzing dwindled and became lazy and slow, Adrian lifted the top off of the beehive. They propped it carefully against the side of the hive and peered in.

A long, thin pipe ran along the top of the hive, emitting smoke to herd the bees down towards the bottom. Near the center of the hive, a panel closed up to form the bee escape through which the bees could not come back through. Within a few minutes, only a few sluggish bees remained on the upper frames.

Someone left a toolbox and a bucket behind the hive. Adrian retrieved a hive tool and used it to pry a frame partway out of the hive. Comb only covered part of it, so they set it back.

"This isn't so different from what I remember," they said, as they checked each of the frames in turn. "Might be nice to get some of my own, later, if the castle doesn't kill us."

"Didn't peg you for the gardening type."

"A doctor who can't grow their own medicine in the dark ages isn't worth having."

"...Not so different from now."

Adrian flashed their teeth at him. "Then there's hope for me, after all." They hefted the last frame up and hummed approvingly at the mass of honeycomb. "Ah, here." Gently shaking it out, they dislodged stray passengers. They brought it over to set it in the bucket. "There's supposed to be more frames in a shed..."

Turning away, D said, "I'll get them."

"Thank you."

Partaking in the oddly mundane task of beekeeping felt both surreal and normal to D. He frowned over it the whole way to the garden shed and back.

It wasn't a job, it wasn't battle, but he supposed it was necessary all the same.


	26. against a static sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to real life circumstances, I'll be switching to twice a month uploads for a while. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

As Adrian slotted the new frame into the hive, a young girl in a motorized wheelchair rolled up to the end of the path. An elderly man trailed after her, carrying a crate of jars. 

The girl glanced between Adrian and D, gnawing at her lip. "Um. Hello!" She couldn't have been more than ten and her voice came out in a squeak. Taking a breath, she straightened her shoulders. "You... looked like you could use these. For the honey, I mean."

At that, the elderly man stepped forward to offer the crate.

"Ah!" Adrian smiled, small enough to hide their fangs. "That's very thoughtful, thank you."

Since Adrian was up to their elbows in bees, D rose from the log he'd been sitting on. The moment D took the crate, the elderly man backed off to stand behind the girl's wheelchair. He had a faint curl to his lip and would not look directly at either dhampir.

D carried the crate over to Adrian. Lacking anywhere to set the thing, he continued to hold it. Adrian gave the jars a thorough inspection, then chose one from the middle. To D's eye, they all looked much the same. He could not begin to guess what motivated Adrian's choice.

"Are you staying on for long?" the girl asked.

Adrian shook their head. "No, we're just visiting."

"That's too bad..."

"Is it?" 

Nodding, the girl lifted her frail arms. "You two look like travelers with lots of stories to tell."

"Well." Smirking, Adrian jerked their thumb towards D. "Not this guy. He's not much one for talking."

The girl studied D for a long time, then nodded as if she'd confirmed something. "He seems like the type, crowned in marigolds and thistle."

"Oh? Do you know flowers?"

"Yeah!"

"What made you pick those, then?"

"Marigold is grief, but also starting anew." The girl pointed out into the flower fields. "See, they're bright, like fire."

"A rather pretty, delicate looking thing... And the thistle?"

Casting a furtive glance at D, the girl hugged herself. "A thorny warning. And Nobility. You're not human, are you?"

Silent, Adrian shook their head.

"We should go," the old man said, his voice soft and hoarse.

"Wait." Adrian lifted a hand, palm turned out. "Ah, do you know what foxglove stands for?"

"Protection," the girl said. "If you need that, there's some growing on a hill not far from here. Look for the steel windmill."

"I do, thank you."

As the old man helped her turn around, the girl added, "But I think maybe poppies are better suited for you."

Then they were gone, leaving Adrian frowning at nothing in particular. They knelt next to the bucket containing the honeycomb. "I wonder what poppy stands for..."

"Depends on the color."

"You're the last person I ever expected to know the language of flowers..."

"She's not wrong." D went to set the crate of jars on the log. "Because you can derive opium from poppies, they stand for eternal sleep."

"...Oh." Adrian snorted. "That's a bit too close to the mark. Are there still people blessed with insight, D?"

"It's not an unusual mutation."

"Should have asked her for my fortune, I suppose."

"Didn't seem like she foresaw the future."

"Hmm... Just really good at reading people, then. A warning indeed."

Adrian carefully cut off a piece of the honeycomb and dropped it into the jar. Some of the honey oozing from the comb dribbled over the side. D watched the slow drip of gold as it pooled over Adrian's fingers. Then he watched Adrian lift the jar to lick both fingers and glass clean, unabashed.

Something like irritation heated up the back of D's neck. He narrowed his eyes. "Shouldn't you pasteurize that first?"

"As if I'm going to get sick."

"Are you willfully forgetting how long you've been asleep?"

Pausing with the tip of their finger in their mouth, Adrian hmmed. They pulled their finger out with a wet pop and nodded. "Fair enough, maybe my immune system _isn't_ equipped to handle evolution... It's certainly thinner than I remember."

D cast a pointed look around the flower garden. It in no way was large enough to support the hive. "They may be supplementing."

"With sugar water?"

"Synthetic nutrients."

"That sounds fancy."

While the Knights clearly set aside a considerable budget for what Adrian had called 'enrichment', it was unlikely they could afford the most top of the line jellies and syrups.

"...Sugar water is likely the delivery method," D admitted.

"Ah. I assume this means they're making a little go far." Adrian capped their jar and set it aside, then retrieved the other jars. As they divided the comb and honey between jars, they murmured, "You know a lot about flowers and bees. Can't imagine you gardening."

"I didn't."

"Someone you know teach you, then?"

D's eyelid flickered. In his mind's eye, he saw the gardens of night beneath the starlit sky.

A quiet place overflowing with water and plants on multiple tiers of pale stone. A faceless marble statue stood at the center, her hands upraised as if to entreat the heavens to free her from the rusting iron shackles that festooned her wrists, arms, and neck. All for her, a woman he did not think had ever existed outside of the Sacred Ancestor's wild flights of fancy.

And below that, the steady drone of hot lights and mechanical swarms attending countless experimental plants in the underground greenhouses. They were for her, too, but only to control her unruly bloodline.

"...No."

Adrian held the last jar up and peered through it at D. A thin sliver of comb drifted in the golden honey inside. It did little to hide the reproachful, pensive way Adrian studied him.

D turned away. "Are you done here?"

"...Sure. Will it be a problem if we go for a walk outside of the grounds?"

"Not if it doesn't take long."

"It shouldn't."

Adrian slotted the jar of honey into the crate and left it sitting in front of the hive. Then they pocketed their own jar, which made their pocket bulge out and their coat begin to sag on one side. As they walked past D, the jar bounced against their leg, forcing them to adjust their gate to account for it.

Instead of giving voice to any of the bemused thoughts that drifted by, D tucked his nose into his scarf and followed.

They left the hospital grounds without incident.

Adrian slowed outside the walls to scan the horizon. The steel windmill cast a long shadow from a purple hilltop a good half a mile away. When the breeze picked up, it not only spun the windmill's blades but brought with it the gentle, sweet scent of flowers.

Lashes fluttering, Adrian tipped their head back as they inhaled. "That's pleasant."

D walked past them without a word. The road took them out into direct sunlight and though he would never admit it, he wanted to get back indoors before the sun reached its zenith.

On the way over to the flower-covered hill, Adrian veered off the road on occasion. They never went far and always came back with seemingly useless plants, sticks, and rocks. D slowed only enough to make sure he wouldn't lose them. Otherwise, he kept right on walking.

A dirt track forked off of the main road, winding its way through the overgrown grass to the hill. Wagon ruts made the track difficult to walk on so D waded through the grass.

As they reached the foot of the hill, Adrian murmured, "Oh. It's _all_ foxglove..."

D stared down his nose at the slender plants bobbing in the wind. "You can get what you need down here, then."

"Maybe I want to see the view from the top."

Sighing, D followed them up the hill.

The track evened out and all but dwindled, suggesting that no one had driven their wagons up there. Directly beneath the windmill, a rusting chain link fence bordered an old shack. The flowers grew right up against the fence but not inside of it.

Adrian barely spared the building a glance. They wandered around to the far side of the fence to stand at the edge of the hill. The wind tugged at their coat and hair as they gazed out over the lake and the sprawling town.

D hung back, struck by a sudden uncertainty he couldn't place.

"...It's really nice out here," Adrian said, after a long time.

"Mmn."

Adrian turned their head, squinting over their shoulder with something like amusement. "Making me carry this conversation with myself, like always?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Do you know if the cemetery is half as nice as this?"

"Never been."

Nodding, Adrian faced forward again. They lapsed into a long, thoughtful silence.

D broke it with a quiet, "We should go."

"...Right." Less than discreetly, Adrian swiped their fingers against their eyes before turning away from the view and their melancholy thoughts. "Let me just... get some flowers for Maria."

Rather than stay and supervise, D retreated down the hill to give them some space.

They came down with a bouquet of foxglove tied together with a trailing black ribbon. For some reason, the sight of the ribbon fluttering in the wind brought home the reality that they would soon be attending a long overdue funeral for a woman D had never met in person yet felt unquestionably attached to.

The walk back to the hospital was quiet.

Lori met them at the gates. Her smile faded on seeing their grim expressions. She lifted her hands, fluttering her fingers just before signing, [What (is) wrong?]

Glancing sidelong at Adrian, D gave a slight shake of his head.

Adrian lifted their head and straightened their shoulders with a wan smile. "Hello, Lori." They looked to D. "Would you ask her if it's very far to the cemetery?"

Dutifully, D did so.

[Not far.] Lori made a waving motion with one hand. [Want (to) walk?]

"I need to fetch her remains," Adrian said. "Wait here."

Tensely, D nodded. He watched Adrian until they vanished behind a line of trees. Even knowing that they were unlikely to cause any harm, D still could not completely shake the urge to keep them in his sights at all time.

A gentle touch to his arm drew his attention down. Lori raised her brows, head tilted in the direction Adrian had gone. Her eyes sparkled and her mouth twitched with barely contained mirth.

[Miss them?]

D wrinkled his nose and stepped away. That made her laugh, a soft, wheezy noise lacking voice.

[Teasing!] she signed. [(Do) not leave.]

[I will not.]

Smiling, Lori tucked her hands into her pockets and rocked on her heels. She gazed off to the side, perhaps admiring the distant flower-laden hill or the cheerfully blue sky and the fluffy white clouds drifting by. D drifted to lean against the wall near her with his arms folded.

Some time later, Adrian returned carrying only the bouquet of flowers and the pouch containing Maria's heart, both cradled in the crook of their arms. They must have taken the time to empty their pockets, as no leaves, sticks, or honey jars bulged out.

Lori faced Adrian, fluttering her hands. She took a tentative step down the road with her head tilted. Nodding, Adrian fell into step with her. D brought up the rear.

The cemetery Lori took them to lay a little to the west, sheltered in a copse of trees uphill from the lake. It was small and quiet. The sign affixed to the chainlink fence declared it to be the hospital's private grounds.

Pointing, Lori indicated the far end of the cemetery, where empty ground awaited future tenants, and the larger tombs nearby, which hosted walls of ashes and altars. [Which (do) you prefer?]

When D translated, Adrian drifted towards a sunny spot at the highest part of the hill. From that vantage point, one could see most of the lake, the hospital, and the steel windmill. D smelled foxgloves on the wind.

"Is here okay?" they asked, voice quiet, as though afraid of disturbing the dead.

Lori smiled, nodding, and went to retrieve a shovel from the shed near the gates. She handed it over to D. [Please?]

D shed his cloak, sword, and hat, leaving them leaning against the side of a tree. Then he dragged the shovel blade through the grass, marking the grave to Adrian's satisfaction. It did not need to be very large but he dug it large enough for a full grown woman all the same, as if all of her parts would be buried there.

While D dug the grave, Lori and Adrian made a simple cross out of wooden planks and nails borrowed from the shed. Adrian scratched Maria's name, date of birth, and date of death onto it with a claw.

Thick clouds drifted in to hide the sun when they laid Maria's heart at the bottom of the grave. The pouch looked so small and inconsequential.

D stood at the foot of the grave, clutching the handle of the shovel tight enough to make the metal creak. Lori stood to the left with her hands folded behind her back and her head down.

Adrian knelt at the right. They recited something in a language D didn't recognize, all vowels and sorrow.

The bouquet of foxgloves lay in their lap until they finished. Then they dropped the bouquet into the hole. The flowers fluttered on their way down, petals flying loose. The breeze caught one, twirled it, and settled it in Adrian's hair. They didn't seem to notice.

"Do either of you want to say something?" Adrian asked.

D relayed the question to Lori. She shook her head with a shrug.

"D?"

The only thing he could think to say was, "I'm sorry."

He didn't really know her, after all. She was like his mother-- a whirlpool of memories and emotion conjured by someone else without the slightest inkling that anyone else had seen it. The privacy of her life had been violated. He had no right to be there or to say anything about her.

Adrian stood up, dusting their pants off. They held their hand out for the shovel. The first shovelful of dirt was theirs to deliver. After allowing D and Lori to each add one shovelful, they went on to fill the hole up themself.

Lori touched Adrian's shoulder with a thin smile, then walked off to put away the other borrowed tools.

Meanwhile, D retreated to pull his cape and hat back on, sheltering his tingling skin from the sunlight. He kept his sword scabbard in a loose grip in one hand.

Leaning against the tree, he watched the sky, not Adrian. The scrape of the shovel and the whump of dirt made for a haunting, repetitive backdrop to an otherwise peaceful morning.

A few minutes later, Lori came back. She motioned towards the road, then herself. [I('m) going back. Come (to) lunch?]

D nodded.

Both looked to Adrian, who sat at the foot of the partially filled grave with the shovel across their lap. The sunshine bore down on them, casting stark shadows over their pale face. The growing heat seemed to have gotten the better of them, if the sound of their wheezy breathing was any indication.

Lori tugged sharply at D's cloak. [Take care (of) them.] She clapped her hands to get Adrian's attention, then waved as she walked off.

D left his sword leaning against the tree as he approached Adrian.

When D's shadow fell over them, Adrian tipped their head back, eyes squinted. "She's leaving us so soon?"

"We're to join her for lunch."

"Can I nap instead?"

Wordless, D held his hand out. He meant to take the shovel and finish but Adrian took it as an offer to help them up. Their hand slid against D's, smearing dirt, and gripped tightly. Instead of bothering to correct them, D hauled them to their feet.

Then he took the shovel. "Someone will be by to stake the dirt."

"Stake... the dirt?" Adrian's brows rose and began to wrinkle up, their lips formed an o-shape, and they glanced between the ground and D as if in search for answers. "What?"

"So you won't have to worry about her rising again."

"... _Oh._ " Adrian's expression softened into a slight, crooked smile. A fang gleamed in the corner of their mouth. "Is that... are you trying to be comforting or something?"

D stabbed the shovel blade into the heap of dirt. He allowed the act of filling in the hole to speak for him.

With a quiet scoff that sounded less annoyed than usual, Adrian went to sit in the shade. They pulled a handkerchief from their pocket and gently dabbed the sweat from their cheeks and brow. At no point did they spare D's sword so much as a glance; always, they faced forward, watching D finish burying Maria.

When he finished, D went to trade the shovel for his sword. He slung it over his shoulder as he gazed up at the sun nearing the middle of the sky. Heat and exhaustion bore down on him.

"We should go."

Adrian rose on unsteady legs. "... _Would_ Lori be offended if I begged off and took that nap?"

"No." D turned and walked away. "Be rested for the journey ahead."

Behind him, he heard a soft, "Of course."

Though they walked back to the hospital together, neither spoke, and Adrian departed for their room as soon as they entered the hospital grounds. D veered off towards the residential building.

Noon meant most patients were either indoors or gathered on the back patios. Staff bustled around serving meals. D wove his way between the drifting crowds, ignoring the occasional gasps. He spared no one a second glance.

Halfway up the stairs to the Knights' apartment, D ran into Tsurugi struggling under the weight of a stack of books. D set his hand against Tsurugi's shoulder to steady him.

"Ah, D!" Tsurugi grinned, a little sheepish. "Thanks. Would you mind--?"

D took the books in one hand. To him, they weighed less than nothing. "Bringing work home with you?"

"Given that work _is_ home, yes."

Chuckling, Tsurugi straightened his coat, then led the way to the apartment. The number of gasps and staring went down while D was in the man's presence, if only because the staff valued their jobs more than the opportunity to ogle.

As soon as Tsurugi let them into the apartment, D set the books down on a side table. "You mentioned a job."

"I did, yes. Let's discuss it over lunch, shall we?"

They found Lori in the kitchen, fixing sandwiches with a side of chips and grapes. It was about all she could make without the risk of a house fire. Her smile was sheepish as she offered a plate to D.

Normally, he would refuse but-- somehow all he could think of was what Adrian would say.

D took the plate and a seat.


	27. a beautiful dream

As D picked at his sandwich, he found that he did not much care for the crusts or the lettuce. He shunted both off to the side of the plate, banished behind the grapes.

Lori noticed and smiled as she signed, [Sorry.]

With a slight shake of his head because not even he knew what his sandwich preferences were, D made a show of eating the rest. The bread kept sticking unpleasantly to the backs of his fangs. He felt like a dog licking its chops after a spoonful of peanut butter.

Thankfully, his hosts were kind enough to not comment on it.

Tsurugi slid a glass full of iced tea over. The ice cubes and a lemon slice bobbed in the amber liquid. D downed half of it without tasting it, glad to be rid of the tacky feeling in his mouth.

"So... You've been through Midwich, right?" Tsurugi asked.

D inclined his head the slightest amount.

"We've a young girl who'll be discharged soon. She'll need an escort."

"And?"

Smirking, Tsurugi rolled his eyes. "And there's rumors of a werewolf pack running amok up that way."

D stared.

Beside him, Lori reached out to steal a grape. She nudged the others towards D when he glanced over. Taking the hint, he popped one of the fruit into his mouth. He bit into it as he swung his gaze back to Tsurugi. The sweet yet tangy juice tasted better than the sandwich or the tea.

"Do we have to go through this every time, D?"

"I only hunt vampires."

"Yes, yes. Fine. You and I both know werewolves don't normally cause problems unless there's a Noble behind it."

"Where's your proof?"

"It's Midwich."

Flatly, D repeated, "And," because he had dealt with the vampires in the area long ago.

"The lights are on in the ruins." Tsurugi smacked his palm flat on the table, rattling his plate. "The girl's name is Ann Howe. She's the sole survivor of the Howe family of hunters."

The more Tsurugi revealed about the job prospect, the less D liked it. He never got on well with self-proclaimed hunter families.

The Howes specialized in killing an assortment of lesser beasts. They had been hired by the local Noble families in generations past to cull escaped pet experiments. In his brief encounters with the family, he found them insufferably smug. They meant well but behaved as though killing a few man-eating spiders put them on the same level as a vampire hunter.

"If she's a hunter, she can handle herself."

"I'm asking you, _as a friend_ , to present yourself to her so that she can hire you because she's not going to be hunting anything."

"...How old is she."

"Nine."

"Got many children, this time of year?"

"No...?"

D pushed his plate away and stood. "Then I've already met her. She didn't seem troubled."

But she would be trouble for him, given her ability to read people.

Touching the brim of his hat, D nodded at Lori, then headed for the door. He didn't slow when Tsurugi shouted his name, nor when the man grabbed at his arm. Tsurugi did not have the strength to slow him.

"When's the last time you saw Belazs?"

Stopped cold in front of the door, D spun slowly around. Tsurugi stood in the middle of the living room. Behind him, Lori hovered in the kitchen doorway, glancing between the two men. The rapid flutter of her hands conveyed her confusion just as much as her expression. She'd been left out of the conversation entirely.

"Why?" D asked, through grit teeth.

"There's rumors that the Baron in blue was seen in Midwich shortly before the Howes were attacked."

"And you think it was him?"

"That's what everyone else thinks."

D tipped his head down, hiding the lower half of his face in his scarf. The wide brim hat hid his stormy frown from the Knights.

He could not believe that Byron would ever intentionally cause harm to anyone who didn't attack first. And yet, they shared the same cursed genes. Even he would some day need to be put down. With any luck, that day would come _after_ he killed the Sacred Ancestor.

"Fine," D said, after a long, icy silence. "I'll see the girl."

"Good! Shall I show you to her room?"

"No need."

Without another word, D left.

He didn't expect to get away cleanly. Lori came after him before he reached the stairs. She grabbed him by the hem of his cape with a fierce glare. Expressionless, he turned to face her only because he owed her the chance to scold him after their long years of friendship.

[What (is) wrong?]

D shook his head. He could think of nothing to tell her. The wrongness rankling him was vast and unnamed, difficult to process and harder to put into words, signed or otherwise.

[D! Something (is) wrong! Tell me?]

Infinitely gentle but firm, he laid his hand over hers. Again, he shook his head. Then he released her, unwilling to silence her for more than a moment. The radiation had taken her voice. He would not do it a second time.

Lori twisted her fingers together, mouth drawn down in a thin line. Cautious, she stepped closer. [(Will) you...] She eyed him up and down. Her gaze lingered on the sword peeking over his shoulder. [...(be) okay?]

[Always.]

She smiled sadly at him. He offered a thin smile back.

They both knew it to be a lie.

Yet, that exchange had been their parting words since the very beginning. When the time came, he would be the one asking and she would be the one leaving.

Patting his arm, Lori nodded and turned back to rejoin her husband at the door of their apartment.

D took one last look at them, unsure of when he might next see them, then headed down the stairs. He left the residential building just as he'd entered it: with sighs in his wake and a low mood.

Scorching sunlight awaited him outside. It bleached everything to a blinding off-white that made sparks dance in his vision. The heat of it warmed his clothes and made them feel constricting. It would not take long for him to start sweating.

Like a solid weight, the sun bore down on him. Crossing the campus without staggering took up all of his concentration. He barely registered narrowly avoiding passersby.

Someone started to shout at him to watch where he was going but their voice dwindled to a squeak. Others crowded around the first person, their voices a cacophony of concern. D kept walking.

Somehow, he made it back to the room he shared with Adrian without further incident.

Inside, D found blessed darkness. The blinds and curtains were drawn so that only the barest sliver of sunlight could peek through at the very edge. The air conditioning blew cold air against D's face as he hunched beneath the vent.

Adrian lay sound asleep on the couch with the little plush dog tucked against their belly. They did not stir when D clumsily shed his things, not even when the sword scabbard went clattering across the floor, nor when he collapsed into the bed and made the mattress and frame creak.

He let out a long, ragged sigh. That, amusingly enough, made one of Adrian's golden eyes slant open.

"You're so noisy," they murmured, voice thick with sleep. "Don't s'pose you want to talk about it..."

"No."

"So be quiet."

D snorted. "Go back to sleep."

Adrian bared their fangs in a sleepy but not very friendly grin. "You first, hypocrite."

Chalking it up to relief from the sun, D closed his eyes and let himself relax into the oddly light feeling that bubbled against the inside of his rib cage. It did not take long for him to fall asleep.

He dreamed of a man reaching for the sun with a false arm. Shrouded in the deep blues of the ocean, Byron Belazs smiled without fang, as if he knew some secret from the deepest reaches of the sea. Beneath the interplay of light rippling across his cloak, D could see fish darting by.

After killing one father, Byron tended to look the other way when the topic of killing the other came up. Now he pinned D with a hard look, the smile fading.

"When will it be enough blood?"

D looked down, suddenly aware that he was up to his hips in crimson. The liquid was thick and gelatinous. The more he struggled to get out of it, the higher it climbed, sucking him down into its depths.

"I only wanted to know the sun," Byron whispered. "What about you, D? Don't you want to know anything?"

"No."

"Not even yourself?"

Behind Byron, a thorny bush unfurled. It glittered in the light because it was metal. The tiny rose buds hidden behind the layers of thorns were still shut tight. They would never open. He wouldn't allow it.

"No," D repeated, just before his head disappeared beneath the surface.

Down he sank, past tangles of thorns and far from the light. His world became tinted in red, narrowed down to a single point. His lungs labored in the liquid until a machine slithered down his throat and took over.

A deep, booming voice said, "Another failure."

Two pinpricks of blazing light cut through the darkness from high ahead. The eyes were all he ever made out of that awful silhouette.

"Cut them apart."

He thrashed, smashing his fists against the glass that kept him prisoner. The machines wrapped him up tight. They were going to split him apart because half of him was a failure but he no longer remembered which half.

Pain seared down his back.

"D!"

D lurched upright, hand flying out. His arm smacked into something more solid than the throat he'd been aiming for. Above him, his target hissed a quiet curse. He blinked as reality slotted into place.

Adrian glared down at him. Their arms were up to block his attack. A dark red spot spread over where he'd hit; it would bruise soon.

Dropping his arm away, D muttered, "Sorry."

"That must have been some nightmare." Adrian rubbed at their arms and rotated their wrists slowly. "You broke the railing."

D turned his head to look at the bent piece of metal hanging off the side of the bed. He grabbed it and pulled. The metal snapped off entirely instead of bending back into place. Numb, he stared down at the useless piece of metal in his hand.

With a snicker, Adrian backed away to flop on the couch. "Good going."

Dropping the bar on the bed, D slid out onto his feet. He fished a couple of coins from a hidden pocket and went to leave them on the counter.

"Not going to talk about this either, are you?"

"No."

"Hm." Adrian gathered their hair up into a loose, messy bun. "It's nearly dark. I assume you've got your job sorted out."

"Yes."

"Then we're leaving soon, correct?"

D went to collect his things from the floor. "I have to meet with the client."

"Are we meeting them for dinner? Or are we abandoning mediocre hot meals for the misery of hardtack and jerky?"

Pausing, D frowned. He supposed having dinner with the girl would take out two annoying targets with one needle. Somewhat reluctantly, he nodded.

"Which one, D."

D eyed Adrian sidelong. Their shirt hung half unbuttoned, one shoulder bared. Long, curling locks of hair fell from their half-hearted attempt at a bun. They looked indecent and entirely too like a typical Noble intent on luring prey into their private abode.

"Get ready," D said, harsh and cold. "We're not coming back to this room."

"Why does everything have to be so contentious with you?"

Despite their grumbling, Adrian gathered up their things and retreated into the bathroom. They came out later as prim and put together as they could be, given the circumstances and limited time.

D made one last cursory check of the room to ensure nothing was left behind. He found charred leaves and sticks discarded in the trash bin near the couch. At his questioning look, Adrian lifted a brow and the plush dog.

Satisfied, D led the way out of the room and then the building. Though he did not know where the girl was staying, he did not think it would matter. He crossed the grounds, taking the exact same path as that morning.

The girl awaited them in front of the beehives. She was alone. Her hands lay folded in her lap, head tipped back to take in the last, fading rays of sunlight. Beside her chair sat a battered suitcase.

"Ann Howe," D said.

She lowered her head and opened her eyes. "You came, just like the flowers said you would."

"A seer."

"Not really." Ann plucked at the hem of her skirt, rearranging the folds over her knees. "I just listen, and sometimes it makes sense, and sometimes it doesn't." She cast a furtive glance at Adrian. "They said there'd be a dog, that I would have to be brave."

Adrian shook their head. Cezar had been tucked away in one of their large inner pockets, hidden from view. "Not on our account, you won't."

"Will you tell me your names?"

"D."

"Alucard."

Nodding, Ann motioned behind her. "If you'll take me home safely, then your pay is in my chair bag."

D walked around behind her. She watched him but did not twist around to keep him in her sights. He could smell her rising fear, could see it in the way her shoulders went stiff.

The bag attached to the back of her chair was a simple, scuffed leather thing with a dangling yellow flower charm hanging from the strap. D flicked it open and found a pouch of money nestled in with a first aid kit and other sundry. He pulled the money out to count it.

"Are you going alone?" Adrian asked.

"There's no one else left, now."

"Where are we taking you?"

"Midwich," D and Ann said, at the same time.

The girl laughed sheepishly. "Sorry. Did you want to tell him--?"

"It doesn't matter." D stowed the money in his pouch and relatched the wheelchair bag. He stepped out from behind Ann, moving to rejoin Adrian only because the distance would offer her a false sense of comfort. "What happened in Midwich?"

"I don't... really remember anything, but... the werewolves."

"Did you see a man in blue?"

"I..." Ann shook her head. "He was there, but I don't. I'm sorry, it's all a blur. Please don't make me remember it."

D tucked his face into his scarf. He wanted to press her but she was only a child. Before he could decide what to do next, Adrian moved forward.

"May we take your bag?" they asked. "And will you require assistance wheeling your chair?"

"Go ahead." Ann grabbed her wheels and rocked the chair back and forth. "I can move on my own."

"So I see. Let us know if you require assistance, then." Adrian picked up the suitcase. They then faced D with their head tilted. Their hair spilled out over one shoulder, unrestrained. "How are we getting to Midwich with two horses and a wheelchair?"

D drew his gaze away from their hair to gaze disinterestedly off to the side. "We'll need a wagon."

"I assume you know where to _get_ one."

"Yes."

"And?"

"You can wait here."

"Maybe I don't want to."

"...Going to be a long walk to town."

"I'm sure I've been through worse."

Spinning on his heel, D walked away. They did not stay put. He heard Adrian's boot heels ringing off the stone pathways and the creak and rattle of the wheelchair following right behind.

"Is he always like this?" Ann asked.

Adrian sounded like they were smiling when they said, "Oh, yes. Always."

D headed for the stables first. He collected their horses and guided them outside. Then he took the suitcase from Adrian and strapped it to his saddle with some rope. Adrian emptied their pockets into their saddlebags, surreptitiously hiding Cezar from the girl.

With the girl waiting for them outside, just out of sight, Adrian kept casting pointed looks at D and the stable entryway. He frowned at them but could not follow what their vague gestures meant. With a disinterested shrug, D led the horses out. He heard an exasperated sigh before Adrian hurried to catch up.

They made for a curious procession as they left the hospital grounds. Adrian and the girl walked ahead. D followed with the horses' leads in his fist.

As soon as they were out on the road, Adrian asked, "How long were you here, Miss Howe?"

"Ann," the girl corrected. "Almost a month."

"And were you... in need of a chair before?"

"Oh, yes." Ann patted at the outside of one wheel. "This isn't new."

"Ah. Sorry, maybe that was impolite to ask..."

"It's fine. How long have you been a vampire?"

Adrian gave a choked off, helpless little laugh. "Oh, this isn't new, either!"

"Really, I would've thought... Well, he's spooky enough to have an entourage of enthralled victims, isn't he?"

"Now that _is_ impolite."

"Sorry."

D moved past them them without a word. Though it would be faster to take the side tracks that cut across between fields, he stuck to the asphalt and pavement for the girl's sake.

Clicking their tongue, Adrian said, "But no, I'm only half vampire, just like D."

"Oh... It must be hard."

"Sometimes, but I don't imagine it to be any harder than navigating the walking world in your chair."

"...Yeah, maybe..." Ann coughed. "Um, but at least no one is trying to stake me."

Adrian laughed, a quiet, throaty sound that startled a bird from a nearby tree. It went flapping off into the sky, croaking and squawking, and startled other birds from other trees.

The two slowed to watch the cluster of birds scatter into the sunset. D had no choice but to stop and wait for them.

When the noise died down, Adrian said, "...Hmm, I think you and I are going to get along just fine, Ann."

"I hope so."

Watching the two hurry to catch up, D felt something loosen in his chest. He turned away, unwilling to ruminate over it.

The walk to town was exactly as long as D promised it would be. Halfway there, Ann tired out. Adrian took up the task of pushing her chair along.

It would have been faster and easier for D to ride ahead to fetch a wagon but every time he glanced back, it was to find Adrian looking oddly relaxed. Even the girl almost looked _happy_ to be out at night. The dangers near a bustling town like Point Dulac were fairly low, D supposed, but things always seemed to go wrong when he let his guard down.

He let his aura seep outwards, mindful not to let it touch Adrian or Ann. The creatures lurking out in the fields and trees shrank back.

Eventually, they reached the twinkling lights of main street. D withdrew his aura until it was but a thin, simmering layer shrouding himself. It kept passersby at bay, which suited D just fine.

The husbandry workshop and adjourning stables sprawled out just off main street, nestled in between a run down textile shop and a tavern.

Across the street from it lay a large warehouse and a smaller garage. Through the grimy windows, D spotted not only mechanical vehicles in various states of completion but a few carriages and wagons. He did not see anyone inside, however.

D waited until Adrian and Ann came up beside him, then handed the other dhampir the horse lead. "Wait here."

Then he crossed the street and entered the workshop.

Various models of horses occupied the stalls lining one wall. An old man in coveralls snoozed at a desk. A couple of women mended saddles and reins beneath a bright light near the back. A few men crowded around a dismantled horse at the center of the floor, working together to shove the chassis together.

D waited near the doorway until they finished. One of the younger men let out a yelp and the others spun around to face him. Surprise and fear rippled across their faces.

Once he had their attention, D produced a wad of bills, spread like a fan. "I need a single-horse wagon, preferably covered."

Greed overcame caution.

An older man with salt-and-pepper hair stepped forward. "Sure, we prolly got something that'll do you."

The man likely intended to sell D something of poor quality but as soon as he stepped outside and saw Ann in her wheelchair, he stopped dead in the doorway. Grumbling under his breath, he scratched at the back of his head and slumped his shoulders.

"Hey, now," the man said, slow, "What're y'all planning with that girl?"

D brushed past the man and went to stand near Adrian and Ann. "We're vampire hunters. She's our client."

"Is that so, miss?"

"Yessir," Ann replied. "Please don't worry yourself on my account."

"If you say so. Lemme get you something with a ramp." The man turned back to find several of the other men lingering in the doorway. "Oi, come help me instead of floating around like goggle-eyed fish!"

In short order, the team had the warehouse opened up with lights spilling out onto the street. The man with the salt-and-pepper hair seemed to be their boss, for he barked out orders. They moved several carts and wagons out of the way before finally rolling out a medium-sized carriage with a tailgate that folded out into a ramp.

D removed Ann's luggage and the saddle from his horse and placed both inside the carriage. With the help of a tired-eyed, portly man in a greasy shirt, he hitched the horse to the carriage.

Someone else helped Adrian tie their horse to the back and two others assisted Ann in rolling her chair up into the carriage. The final touch was lighting the lanterns next to the driver's seat.

When everything was said and done, D handed over a quarter of the money Ann had given him.

"Oh, this is more'n enough, thank you," the man with the salt-and-pepper hair said.

D inclined his head, watching the humans bow and chatter and back away into the safety of their workshop. Every single one of them was eager to offer assistance only if it meant more money but all too happy to duck out of whatever two dhampirs were doing with a girl in the night.

"...Charming people," Adrian commented.

"Only as it serves them."

"Your faith in humanity is duly noted."

D snorted.


	28. a beautiful life

About five miles from Point Dulac, Adrian climbed out of the carriage to crowd D in the driver's seat. He squinted sidelong at them but they seemed not to take the hint when he flattened himself as far to the left as he could.

As D had snuffed the lanterns, the only light were the distant specks of starlight glittering in the sky. Adrian's golden eyes gleamed in the dark.

"So, I notice we did not, in fact, have dinner."

"You should stay inside and watch the girl."

"She's asleep."

"Despite present company?"

Adrian touched their fingers to their chest. "I'll have you know _I_ can be very charming, unlike you."

D said nothing, facing straight ahead. The lack of light didn't bother him but he needed to act as the horse's eyes or else the carriage would end up in a ditch.

"We're not going to stop tonight, are we?"

"No."

"Jerky it is, then."

"I'll pass."

"No you won't."

"I ate a sandwich," D admitted, voice pitched low as if he were imparting a terrible secret.

"Really? When?"

"When I met with Lori and Tsurugi."

"Oh, so before your nap." Adrian clucked their tongue. "No, that's too long ago. Come on, join me in celebratory jerky that tastes like dog food."

Caught between two questions, D blurted, "Celebratory-- why do you--?" He snapped his mouth shut, teeth clicking.

Adrian laughed. "Unfortunate circumstances call for desperate measures."

They pulled a package of jerky out of their pocket, tore it open, and waved a piece under D's nose until he accepted it. Idly gnawing on their own piece, they leaned back in the seat and gazed skywards.

"We survived an encounter with Legion," they said. " _And_ we visited some place nice without anything horrible happening. I was beginning to wonder if that was possible."

"Don't get used to it," D muttered.

That only made them laugh again. "Oh, are you planning something dastardly?"

"No."

"Well, if you're negative all the time, then it's no wonder negativity follows you."

"How wise."

Adrian lifted a shoulder. "Something a friend used to say."

"Not going to see them come back, are we?"

D's side shook from the force of their shudder. "Gods, I hope not. Seeing Maria was more than enough for me."

"Hn."

"Are we going to see any more of your friends?" Adrian paused to rifle through the jerky bag. "Do you _have_ any others?"

"Maybe."

"A very helpful answer, thank you."

"Not sure what you expected."

"Ha. Will you tell me about where we're going, or do I need to look it up?"

"You already know the answer."

Sighing dramatically, they thrust another piece of jerky at D. They either had not noticed that he had not eaten the first and had instead flicked it off to the side or had decided to keep persisting until he relented. Either way, D put the second piece of jerky in his mouth. It gave him an excuse to not have to talk any more.

"Fine, you cantankerous, secretive bastard," Adrian murmured. They pulled out their tablet and flicked it on. "Midwich, Midwich... Ah, here."

Falling quiet, they shifted around to get comfortable and soon became totally engrossed in their reading but for the occasional piece of jerky foisted at D.

Grateful for the silence, D breathed the night air in deep and exhaled slowly. Then he snapped the reins, urging the horse on at a slightly faster clip.

Their destination lay on the other side of the mountains. Since Ann slept through the night, D saw no reason to stop. They made it through the mountain pass just as the first faint streaks of light crept in.

The road widened out as it straightened and descended the mountain. Spotlights at either side of the road flicked on as they rolled by, then off as soon as they were out of range.

Ahead of them lay rolling fields, tended by machinery at all hours. Lights bobbed in the darkness, accompanied by the creak and clank of metal.

Adrian's interest in their tablet waned as the sky lightened. They stared out into the fields. "Are there any _people_ out there?"

"Not likely."

"Do people come out here at all?"

D shrugged. "For maintenance."

"How far does it go?"

"You could look this up."

"I could, but I don't know where we are."

"The Bread Belt."

At that moment, the carriage rolled by long lines of conveyor belts carrying fresh cut grains along to processing plants. On the other side of the plants, the belts carried newly baked loaves to packaging facilities. After that, they were loaded into an automated train to be taken all the way to the Capital.

"...A stunningly literal name," Adrian decided.

D could not quite repress a smile. He hid it in his scarf.

Narrowing their eyes at him, Adrian swiped their tongue against the back of one fang. "Hmm... We're going to have to think about stopping soon."

"Are we?"

"For Ann's sake."

"We can't stop in the Belt."

"Why not?"

"We don't have authorization."

Adrian tapped their fingertips along the edges of the tablet. "I don't fancy finding out what those horrid machines can do to a person..." They frowned out into the fields. "How far out does this go?"

D scanned the horizon. There seemed to be no end to the fields yet. "Another three or four hours, at this pace."

"Does that mean we could go faster?"

"Yes."

"Can your horse take it?"

Wordless, D snapped the reins. The horse lurched into a full on gallop, jostling the carriage. Adrian flailed and grabbed at the edge of the driver's seat to keep from getting thrown. D suspected the reaction might have been pure theatrics, given Adrian's ability to levitate.

"A little more warning!?" Adrian had to shout to be heard over the rattle of the carriage and the pounding of hooves.

"Why?"

They huffed and jabbed their elbow into his side. "You're an asshole."

Though the hit did not hurt, the spot where Adrian touched him felt lit up and sparking, like he needed to scrub or itch it.

Outwardly, D showed no reaction.

Adrian sank back to their side of the seat. There lay a scant half an inch between the two of them. Every little bounce of the carriage jostled their legs and shoulders together. Every time it happened, D felt a little more tense, all knotted up and out of sorts.

He gripped the reins tightly and fought the rising urge to lash out. He refused to let a single iota of his turmoil show on his face.

With how fast the carriage sped along, the wind buffeted them, whipping their clothes and hair around wildly. The snap of D's cape seemed to spur the horse on. D reached up to secure his hat so it would not go flying.

Adrian tried and failed to keep their hair out of their face. "And I do so love playing twenty questions with you but I think I'm going back inside before my hair is ruined forever."

D eased the horse back into a canter until Adrian made it safely back inside the carriage. Then he lashed the horse again, driving it faster and faster until they became a blur of black streaking down the road.

Truth be told, D never had authorization when passing through the area. He had relied on the power of his amulet. It worked only on devices created by the Nobility but humans, despite all their professed loathing of everything related to Nobles, had upcycled technology whenever possible. What little machinery hadn't been impacted by his amulet had been easy to avoid in the past.

He touched his fingers to the useless lump of crystal against his chest. Glancing back, he saw Adrian's horse gamely galloping just behind and to the side of the carriage, easily keeping up with the larger horse's pace.

Further behind them, sections of the ground opened up in between the lights lining the road. Long metal barrels or thin, wobbling wires slid out of the openings. The security measures reacted too belatedly to catch the carriage in the crisscross of red lasers or the crackle of electricity.

However, the longer they were in the area, the more accurate the system's predictions about where they'd be next would become. D could already see hatches starting to slide open ahead of them.

Mechanical humanoids out in the fields ceased their work to watch the carriage. Some of them dropped their harvest barrels and hefted their weapons. They lumbered along, some trailing the carriage and others cutting across to get ahead of it.

Releasing his aura, D blanketed a wide area around the carriage. It would do nothing to stop the roadside traps but it might slow the more advanced AI. Then he snapped the reins, hoping to coax just a little more speed out of the horses.

The gargantuan arm of a backhoe loader swung out into the road. D yanked on the reins to force the horse to swerve to the right. He ducked and they just barely cleared the gap beneath the arm.

The carriage rocked onto two wheels then slammed back down and bounced along, hurtling back and forth. The wild careening knocked away two mechanoid harvesters coming up from behind.

It also made Adrian's horse scream and veer off into the opposite direction. The lead snapped. The golden horse crashed through a fence. Trailing jagged, sparking barbed wire, it zigged and zagged, trampling through the crops.

Hissing under his breath, D looped the reins around the railing. Then he launched himself up onto the roof of the carriage.

The window slammed open. "What's going _on_ out there!?" Adrian shouted.

"Keep the girl safe."

"Easier said than done, with your driving!"

"There are complications."

D drew his sword and lashed out, severing a metal hand clinging to the edge of the carriage. Its owner fell in a spray of sparks. The machine tumbled head over heels and crashed into several others, slowing them down.

" _Gods_ , there's so many..."

Leaning down over the side of the carriage, D yanked the window shutter shut. "Stay inside."

A swarm of metallic bodies spilled out into the road ahead. D kicked off from the roof of the carriage, lightly bounced off the back of his horse, and barreled into the mob. By the time the carriage blew through, D had cut a swath through the middle.

Adrian's horse soared out of the field to give chase to the carriage. D grabbed the saddle horn as it sped by and pulled himself onto its back. He yanked the barbed wire lose and threw it into the face of a wildly reaching machine, right before delivering a solid kick to its chest to send it flying.

Ahead of the carriage, more and more obstacles piled up. No matter what D did, he could not spur Adrian's horse to get ahead of his own.

For a split second, he felt a pang of regret for having hampered Adrian's speed with safeguards. Then he yanked on the reins. The horse reared up, screaming, and spun on its hind legs.

Gold and black sheared through the mob of machinery trailing after the carriage. D spun his sword from one hand to the other, so fast that it sang a high, eerie tone that made his ears ring. Metal screeched as it split apart. Sparks hissed out in a wide arc.

D left nothing in his wake but destruction.

Smoking heaps of scrap metal littered the road. When he swerved back around to follow the carriage, the little gold pony gamely picked its way through it.

A slim figure swayed atop the carriage roof. Of course Adrian had not minded and stayed inside. Their sword flashed out through the air, cleaving mechanical limbs in two.

D tucked his body against the horse's back and spurred it on. He pulled up alongside the carriage.

The panels at the side of the road lit up in vivid red. D swiped his sword out to deflect an array of lasers. The beams bounced and scorched the earth, leaving behind smoldering embers that soon caught. Some of the machines scrambled to try and put the flames out before they spread.

A blockade comprised of a thousand grinding metal blades lay ahead of the carriage. Two combine harvesters stacked on one another, braced at either side by piles of mechanical bodies. With no one in the driver's seat, the carriage raced headlong.

As soon as the smaller horse caught up with the larger, it pulled back so that it was always just a few steps behind. D leaned up from his saddle and strained forward, trying to reach for the bridle.

Death loomed closer and closer.

The bridle dangled frustratingly out of D's reach.

Any second now, the big black horse would become so much churned up meat. The carriage would follow in a spray of wood chips. Then the girl and--

Adrian arced through the air, arms outstretched. Their cape and hair fluttered behind them like a halo and wings. Red afterimages streaked after them. They landed on the back of the big horse. Squeezing their thighs tight to cling to the horse, they grasped the bridle at either side of the horse's head and pulled.

At the last possible second, the horses veered off into the fields. The harvester teeth cut a deep gouge in the side of the carriage.

Bouncing and rattling, the carriage swung wide. It tilted, creaked, and with one last groan, one of the wheel axels snapped. The whole thing rolled, skidding on one side. The shaft and reins snapped, loosing the big black horse. While the animal staggered away with Adrian still clinging to its back, the carriage came to a stop on its roof out in the middle of a field of grain.

D reined the pony to a halt beside the carriage. He dismounted to kneel near the upside down door. Wrenching the door off its hinges, he peered inside.

The wheelchair lay on its side in one corner. He saw no sign of the girl at first.

"D?" she called, plaintive.

He looked up. She'd been wrapped up in blankets for padding and strapped into one of the seats. Exhaling, D climbed in to cut her down. He settled her in the crook of his arm. Her skinny arms wrapped around his neck. As carefully as possible, he backed out.

After standing upright outside, he found machinery forming a ring around the downed carriage. Adrian's horse pawed anxiously at the ground as it danced in place.

D tightened his grip on the girl and raised his sword before him. He could feel the faint, useless crackle of his aura trying to seep into the broken amulet at his neck. It gave a futile flicker of light before petering out.

The sun had risen. Streaks of gold, orange, and pink colored the sky. The light shone distractingly off to his right, marring his vision with sun spots.

A dark silhouette cut the light off. D glanced that way and saw his horse rearing up, its front legs kicking. Adrian still clung to it, their left hand tangled in the reins and mane. They held their right hand out parallel to their shoulder. Their sword hovered just beyond their fingertips. The glow of the sun at their back made D's throat close up and he could not name why.

The horse screamed as it crashed down and through the machines. Adrian hurled their sword ahead and around the horse, slashing through the tight cluster of mechanical bodies and implements.

It became clear that Adrian had little control over where the horse went as it charged straight by the carriage and out through the circle of machinery on the other side. Worse still, their horse's programming kicked in and it raced after the bigger horse.

D sighed through his teeth. He shifted Ann to resituate her weight, then sidestepped to avoid a lobbed pitchfork. The tines punched through the side of the carriage and the handle reverberated audibly.

The robots closed in on him from all sides. D backed away from what he could and cut down the rest.

There were too many coming at him at once. They overwhelmed him, stabbing at his blind spots. A scythe tore his cape and sliced him above the hip bone. The blund side of a hoe smacked against his shin. A shovel sparked off his sword, split in two, and the remaining piece of the shovel blade sank into his shoulder.

Each injury faded almost as soon as the weapon was pulled free from his flesh. With each, his regeneration slowed a little more.

Always, he turned his own body into the attacks, shielding Ann.

"D!" she cried. "Put me down!"

Selfishly, he thought he might. It would be easier to let her die.

Yet D could not bring himself to do it. Not only was she his client but she was a _child_. Something dark and vicious and furious rose up, hammering his heart ruthlessly. He bared his fangs, lashing out with his aura and his sword.

Red colored his vision. He thought it the cursed blood light of his vampiric nature. Then he heard it, the high pitched shriek of a bat, echoed by the whine of a sword cutting the air.

Adrian smashed into the crowd of robots penning D in, hard enough to utterly crush the shell of a heavy duty drill planter. Their wings flapped out, throwing several smaller robots aside. As they took to the air for another divebomb, their sword rocketed back and forth, piercing metal skulls and cores alike.

Their intervention gave D breathing room. He fought his way out from the crowd, hunched forward to keep Ann protected with his own body.

In the distance, a loud, warbling siren went off. Just like that, all the machinery lurched to a halt. The lights in their eyes dimmed. The automated security measures lining the roads closed back up. Even the electricity buzzing along the fences cut off.

The ensuing silence seemed incredibly loud.

D realized with some consternation that the sound he heard was his own ragged breathing. Ann's heartbeat rattled against him too, a tempting siren's call. He shivered, arm tightening around her. His aura thickened as if to block out the sun. The area around him became so cold that Ann's teeth chattered.

"D...?"

At that moment, Adrian landed before them, the shape of the bat sloughing away. They smoothly sheathed their sword and held their arms out with a grim expression.

Teeth bared, D relinquished the girl. His hands shook with relief, hard enough that his sword rattled in its scabbard as he sheathed it. He turned away sharply.

"Are you alright, Ann?" Adrian asked.

"I'm fine. But, D..."

"I know. Let's give him a moment, shall we?" Adrian's voice moved further away. "We need to get your things from the carriage..."

D thought it best that he put more distance between himself and them. He shoved through the remaining robots and went in search of the horses.

They had not gone far.

He found the big one grazing near a ditch, apparently unbothered by its recent adventure. It had some lesions around its mouth, a gash on its chest, and a few dents from where the carriage shaft had smashed against its carapace.

The smaller one trotted back and forth restlessly nearby. D had to chase it to catch its lead. It balked and tried to pull away as he checked it for injury. He found a few scratches on its forelegs but nothing serious.

With both horses well in hand, D surveyed the landscape. He suspected the systems managing the Bread Belt had calculated the damages caused and determined any further engagement to be too great a loss in revenue and resources. There probably wouldn't be any further altercations. Still, it would be better if they left as soon as possible.

He walked the horses back over to the fallen carriage. Adrian had managed to dig Ann's wheelchair and suitcase out. She sat in the chair with a blanket draped over her shoulders and another over her lap. Surprisingly, the way she watched D lacked fear.

Warily, Adrian asked, "Everything alright, D?"

"Fine."

D passed the horse leads over, then knelt to dig his fingers under the edge of the carriage. He hefted it over onto its side, then up onto its wheels. It listed to one side.

"We can't use that, can we?"

After pacing around the carriage to inspect the damage, D sighed. "Probably not enough time for repairs."

"Any idea how far we are from civilization that _isn't_ haywire murder machines?"

"No."

"I'm sorry," Ann said, abruptly. "I'm going to be a hindrance now, aren't I?"

Both dhampirs turned to look at her. Adrian opened their mouth first, but it was D who said, cold and harsh: " _No_."

Mirrored shock on Adrian and Ann's faces gave D a queer, twisty sort of feeling. He brushed past them. While he could not repair the carriage, he could attend to his horse's wounds. He dug out the needed first aid supplies from his saddlebag and bent to patch up the gash on its chest.

Adrian hummed, thoughtful. "Well... I can probably do something about the chair. Assuming we'll have to make do for a while."

"Do something, like what?" Ann asked.

"Make it more manageable. We can't just leave it, right?"

"I have others, at home."

"But you'll need this one until we get there."

"...I suppose so, but... If you have to--"

"Do it," D said. "The girl can ride with you until the next town."

Nodding, Adrian began to pick through the broken pieces of machinery. The components they salvaged were an odd assortment, half of them fried beyond recognition. They made a quick circle around the wheelchair with the junk, then lifted Ann from it and set the suitcase in her place.

By the time Adrian finished transforming the wheelchair and suitcase into a small, compact puzzlebox that weighed as much as the chair originally had, D finished patching his horse up. The box went into one of D's saddlebags.

He helped Adrian mount and secure the girl to the saddle in front of them using ripped up strips from one of the blankets. Then he mounted his own horse and led the way out to the road.

They rode on and the Belt let them go.


	29. just a reflection

It took most of the morning to get out of the Bread Belt. Then their progress slowed owing to the necessity of looking after their fragile human client.

The nature of her disability meant that she needed assistance not only getting off the horse but with numerous basic tasks, none of which she was the best pleased to entrust two strange dhampirs with. Adrian bore through her complaints with grace and proved their skills as a caretaker. D chose to patrol the area, excusing himself from further involvement.

Somehow, they managed to make progress despite the need for frequent breaks.

The sweltering noon sun bore down on them by the time the landscape changed from rolling fields to barren red earth striped with pale sandstone. The roads wound their way between tall, skinny rocks and huge plateaus. The air became dry and scorchingly hot.

Their path dipped down into a gorge to follow roaring river rapids too tumultuous to cross. The echo of noise rebounding off the canyon walls made it difficult to think of much else, so D slouched in his saddle and pretended not to hear anything Ann or Adrian said.

As the river calmed, becoming a deep, tranquil blue-green, the gorge widened out. The roar of the rapids faded to a distant rumble of white noise behind them. Prickly, gnarled trees clung to the ledges overhead, casting strange shadows. A wet, fishy smell permeated the air.

"We shouldn't be here," Ann murmured. "Something's... sleeping here."

Adrian called out, "D?"

D did not look back. "Keep moving."

They passed a number of small cave openings, each dark and narrow. Ann whimpered and Adrian soothed her with a low murmur.

Across the river, a huge black hole split the cliffside. Frayed rope lined with talismans swayed from stalactites near the entrance. Round bells clanged against the stalagmite below. It looked like the mouth of some great beast.

D watched it from the corner of his eye until they left it behind. Then he pulled at his reins. Adrian's horse plodded on by, then came to an abrupt halt, bound by its programming.

Resting one hand on their horse's plated hind, Adrian twisted around. "Something the matter, D?"

"In one minute, your horse will reset."

"Reset...?"

"It won't think it's tethered to mine."

" _Oh._ "

"Ride ahead of me."

"...Alright." Adrian loosened their sword in its scabbard. They peered towards the cave, perhaps understanding without asking that something terrible lurked in there. "I don't know where we're going, though, so you better not be planning anything reckless."

"I know the way home," the girl said. "We're not far... We should keep moving. D, please."

D set his fingers against the hilt of his sword. "Quiet."

The wind whistled through the gorge and the clamor of bells rose in volume. His horse whickered and Adrian's pawed the ground as if in response. Leather creaked as Ann fidgeted, breathing a little too fast. D's eyes narrowed as he strained to hear anything else.

He saw a brief glimmer in the dark recesses of the cave. His hand tightened around the hilt. One glimmer became two, then four, and finally six. Three pale faces loomed up from behind the stalagmites, all identically beautiful. They each had long, thin black hair that dragged along the ground, hiding the rest of their body.

Yet, they watched without moving beyond the mouth of the cave. The faces turned as one when Adrian spurred their horse, galloping off down the road as instructed. Then they swiveled around to stare D down.

He felt the urge to bare his teeth. The presence of a medusa was to be expected-- it was what Midwich was known for, after all. Seeing one so brazenly out in the open, testing the boundaries of a barrier worn down by the elements did not bode well.

"If you come out," he said, enunciating each word as he let his aura seep out over the river, deep and dark and cold, "I will kill you."

Three mouths opened. Hissing or laughing, the sound was lost beneath the clamor of the bells.

Then the creature vanished back into the cave.

The wind stopped and the bells fell silent. Tilting his head, D listened for a while longer. A deep, instinctive sense that he was still being watched made his skin crawl but even that faded away after a few moments more.

D dropped his hand from his sword to his saddlehorn and turned away. He clucked his tongue to urge his horse on. Until the road began to ascend up out of the gorge, he kept the pace to a sedate walk. He did not withdraw his aura.

The monster stayed in its prison.

Adrian and Ann awaited D a mile or so away from the gorge, sheltered in the lee of a tall, skinny rock that sort of looked like an arm pointing at the sky. Gold eyes glittered from behind Adrian's round red shades. They slammed their sword back into its scabbard with an exhale.

"All clear?"

"For now. We shouldn't linger."

"No, of course not." Adrian swept their hand out to the side. "We saw a tower but thought it best to wait for you."

Ann said, "The lights aren't on..."

D urged his horse around the rock. The ground gently sloped down, giving him a clear view of where the red earth was cut off by a stark cement line.

The man made ditch marked the very edge of a different weather controller, one set to far more temperate climates. A sea of blue-green grass flowed in the wind. Further on, a series of towers dotted the landscape, vanishing into a dark, gnarled forest full of trees draped in lichen and moss.

Once, Midwich had been part of the same swamp near Renfield. D neither knew nor cared about what might have caused the swamp to split and dwindle.

What troubled him was the lack of lights in the towers. Not even those out in broad daylight would ever allow their lanterns to go dark. There were terrible, deadly things active in the swamp and surrounding grassland at all hours of the day. The lights were supposed to be a beacon that said, _all is well_.

Adrian pulled up beside D. They gazed straight ahead, arms securely around Ann. "Ann tells me the lights are how you safely cross."

"More or less."

"I assume you're not going to illuminate me."

Ignoring the pun, D turned to the girl. She shrank back against Adrian and did not quite meet his gaze. As far as he could tell, she was not afraid. The journey had taken its toll on her. She looked pale beneath a thin layer of dust and sweat, her eyelids drooping down over glassy eyes.

"You know how to see the way without the lights, don't you?"

"...Yes, but I'm... I'm tired."

"Get us to the first tower."

Adrian huffed. "D... We should take a--"

"We can't stop here."

They snapped their mouth shut with a click of teeth and a glower. Ann patted their hand, then made an effort to sit upright. She didn't quite manage it without help.

"It's going to be harder for me to see... up here. And the road's hidden, so I can't use my chair."

D slid from the back of his horse. "I'll carry you."

"...Okay."

When he undid the straps securing her to the saddle, Ann all but fell into his arms. D shifted her around in a bridal carry so her head rested against his shoulder. Cautious, she lifted her arm. He held perfectly still until he felt her drape it around his shoulders.

Adrian dismounted as well, brushing their hands down the front of their pants. "What are we doing?"

"Follow directly behind me," D answered. "Tie the horses so they'll walk single file."

Nodding, Adrian loosened the strap holding their split reins together, then brought the ends around to tie their horse to D's saddle. D cast a cursory glance over their work and found nothing lacking. Their general horse skills might not have been anything to write home about but they at least understood how to tie a knot.

"You need to hold onto each other... and close your eyes," Ann said. "Sometimes, the way tries to lead astray, if you're looking too hard."

"Oh, it's like that, is it." Adrian clicked their tongue. "Are there will-o-wisps?"

"Mm-hm. You can't really see them during the day, but... they're there."

D turned half to the side so that Adrian could push his cape out of the way. He bore through the uncomfortable feeling of having his belt grabbed with a stoic face.

The odd little procession made its way down to a narrow wooden bridge that crossed the ditch. The short distance gave Ann precious little time to gauge the size of D's stride.

She murmured to herself with each step: "One... one... is it a foot? No, it's more..."

D paused at the line between earth and wood. He scanned the horizon, then glanced back. Adrian's shades perched low on their nose and their golden eyes gleamed in the shadow of their hat.

"Eyes closed," D said, quiet.

"You, too, you big bastard. I'll need a convenient meat shield for a while longer yet."

D snorted, then faced forward with his eyes closed.

"Three steps forward," Ann said. "And turn all the way right. A little more. Okay, two."

With nothing to go by but the girl's voice, D crept along through the tall grass. The sickly sweet smell of it tickled his nose. He could feel the urge to sneeze rising but fought it off with grit teeth.

Sometimes, he heard the whispers of things best not seen. When he did, Ann shrank against him and went quiet. The whole procession slowed to a halt until the whispers stopped.

The ground underfoot squelched and sucked at his boots. Now and then, he had to stop to pull himself up out of the sinking muck. From the labored sound of Adrian's breathing and the restless nickers from the horses, they were not having any easier time of it.

"Gods," Adrian grumbled, "I should be flying."

Ann's head bumped against D's shoulder as she shook it. "No, don't. You have to stay on the ground."

" _Of course_ , because nothing can be easy. Well, too late now to hitch a ride with D..."

"You're too big, anyway."

"Right now."

Though Ann made a confused sound, Adrian did not elaborate.

"We need to keep moving," D said.

"Right, um... half turn, seven steps."

And on they went.

Crossing to the first tower seemed to take hours. D struggled forward as the sun pushed down on him. It became harder to dig himself up out of the muck, harder to process what Ann said, harder to keep his eyes closed. Sweat soaked into the lining of his hat and trickled down. He grimaced at the feeling.

All of a sudden, the heat of the sun eased.

Ann patted the back of D's neck. "It's safe, for now."

D opened his eyes to the blurry sight of the tower looming over them. It resembled a lighthouse constructed out of some sort of pale clay. Someone had painted the base to blend in with the grass.

A matching wooden platform ringed it. On the far side, it jutted out over water so densely covered by greenery that it looked like solid ground. The faint ripple of the surface as something swam by broke the illusion.

D climbed the ramp and approached the huge front doors. He was not surprised to find them hanging open and swaying in the breeze.

"Is it really safe?" Adrian wondered.

Wordless, D turned to push Ann into Adrian's arms. He drew his sword and stepped through the doors.

The ground floor was a wide, open space divided between a couple of animal stalls, space to park cars, and a handful of shelves with supplies for both. An old beat up pickup truck sat on heavy duty treads near the elevator and a door that presumably led to stairs.

D made a quick sweep to ensure no one was hiding. He found nothing. Like Lost Hope, the place was long abandoned. A faint layer of dust covered everything.

He turned back to find Adrian and Ann watching him from the doorway. "Get out of the sun. I'm going to check upstairs."

While Adrian brought the girl and the horses inside, D headed for the elevator. He half expected the call button to not respond. Yet, it lit up and the machinery groaned to life as the elevator descended. The doors opened to reveal a smattering of old bloodstains on the floor but nothing else.

As soon as he entered the elevator, the doors hissed shut. The car gave a hard jerk then rattled its way upwards, slow and creaky. It let him out on the second floor a few minutes later.

The second level comprised of a round central room ringed by doors. The floors, walls, doors, and even part of the ceiling were painted with crusty blood.

Five headless corpses sat around a table at the very center of the room. The heads of each sat on dinner plates, all except for the final corpse at the head of the table. That one slumped strangely, its upper half separate from its bottom.

From the looks of things, all but the last corpse had died of a single stab wound to the heart. Their heads had been removed after the fact. Whoever killed them made a point of rearranging them.

D approached the grisly dinner table slowly, eyes narrowed. The stink of them made his nose wrinkle.

Two of the corpses wore the standard issue blue and silver of the Midwich Corps but one had the jacket unbuttoned and the collar crooked. The other wore muddy black boots and a greasy undershirt.

They were probably impostors, D decided, based on the fact that all the other corpses wore a motley assortment of dirty leathers and faded cotton. He wondered what happened to the real guards.

Tracing a finger along the back of one chair, he frowned. Whoever the dead people were, they'd probably raided the tower and disposed of the bodies in the swamp. Curious that their killer had not done the same.

A familiarity teased at the back of his mind. He could not place it.

Frustrated, he licked at the backs of his fangs and crossed the room to open one of the doors. On the other side lay a pair of bunk beds. The next door revealed storage of some kind and the one after that a pantry connected to the neighboring kitchen. Behind the other doors he found an armory, a privy, a bathing room, and a stairwell leading further up.

Since it wouldn't do to expose Ann to the scene of a murder, D returned to the pantry to rifle through the supplies. Most of the perishable food had rotted away. He grabbed the edge of his cloak and used it as a makeshift sling, filling it with canned goods, bags of beans and rice, and a couple frozen steaks from the freezer.

From the storage room, he collected a first aid kit and a small box of dried blood. The latter wouldn't provide much sustenance but if he added warm water, it would fill his belly for a while.

That done, he headed back down, taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

The horses slumped in standby mode in the stalls with IV drips attached. Ann lay asleep on the horse blankets in the corner right next to the stalls.

Adrian paced nearby but came to a halt on spotting D. "Well?"

D stopped well out of arm's reach. "It's clear." He lifted the edge of his cloak slightly to rattle the contents.

"Oh, you've brought us presents." Adrian stepped forward to pluck a can of creamed corn from the pile. "Was there anything else up there?"

"Showers and stove, if you don't mind the smell."

"...Ah, I might pass, in that case. There's a portable stove and a sink down here that will suffice." Adrian waved D towards the large sink and counter along the back wall. "Should we leave whatever you found up there, though?"

"The authorities can handle it."

"Were you intending to _tell_ the authorities?"

"It might lead to a job."

"So opportunistic."

D spilled the contents of his cloak out onto the counter. He caught a can of tomato paste just before it rolled off the edge and set it upright. "There's no point in getting involved otherwise."

"Cold." Adrian moved the frozen packages of steak into the sink to run lukewarm water over them. "Are you going to ditch Ann?"

"The job ends on escorting her to Midwich."

"And if she needs more help than that?"

"I only work for those who can afford it," D said, drifting towards the stall to busy himself with checking on the horses.

Adrian tapped their thumb against their chin, hip cocked. "I see..."

The conversation lapsed as Adrian went to fetch the portable stove. It only had one burner and came with a small frying pan. They set it up, then began opening cans. Soon, the smell of cooking food filled the air.

Meanwhile, D retrieved a screwdriver and some rags from the nearby shelves. He used the tool to pry rocks from the horse's hooves, then wiped them down. Though he could have taken the time to remove dented plating and hammer them out, he didn't want to take the risk. They might need to make a quick getaway.

While the dhampirs worked, Ann slept fitfully. Once, she woke with a gasp and propped herself up on her elbows. She stared between Adrian, then D, relaxing bit by bit. Perhaps their mundane tasks soothed her. She fell right back to sleep in moments.

Adrian brought a long, skinny crate over to set it near the blankets. They set three dented metal plates, silverware, and cups on top.

The meal they'd prepared was simple, comprised of steak beaten, sliced, and marinated in onions so that it was impossibly tender. Grilled onions topped the steak. For side dishes, there was canned corn and mushy green beans. To drink, they had only water--and for D, a plasma capsule.

"You're going to eat, aren't you?" Adrian asked, eyes narrow.

D went to the sink to wash his hands. "If I must."

Satisfied, Adrian went to wake Ann up and help her sit upright with her back to the wall. They nudged the crate over so that she could reach her plate. Instead of hovering over her to fuss further, Adrian then scooted to sit at the far end of the crate.

Ann nibbled at her food warily but soon brightened up. "This is great! Thank you."

"It's no trouble."

D knelt across from the girl. He gulped down his plasma first, then quietly picked through his meal.

Pushing their spoon idly through their corn, Adrian asked, "When your job with Ann finishes, can I hire you?"

"If it's about your castle, there's no need."

"No, I have something else in mind."

"We'll discuss it," D said, between reluctant bites, "later."

Ann clacked her spoon against her plate. "How are we going to get across the swamp?"

"We're going to turn the lights back on."


	30. a world that must survive

A fugue state of fatigue sapped D's willpower after lunch. He retreated to the far side of the animal stalls to lie flat on the floor with his hat over his face and his sword tucked into the crook of his arm.

Just before he drifted off, he heard Adrian murmur to Ann, "We should get some rest, too."

His dreams harbored things from outside of his head. He knew this by the aimless whispering, the constant shift of faces and scenes, all of them designed to try and appeal to a better nature he did not have.

_Please,_ they begged, _help us._

One by one, he cut each illusion down. Men, women, children, animals, and everything in between fell screaming into pitch black muck.

The glimmer of bluish flames drifting in the distance guided him forward. They grew dimmer with each slash of his blade. His aura buffeted the flames, further damping them.

The will-o-wisps vanished.

He stilled in the darkness and listened to the whispers and the faint splashing of things best not seen moving around him.

_Light-killer,_ the whispers accused. _How will you illuminate the way?_

A warm hand slipped into his. Slender fingers threaded between his and squeezed tight. The presence that pressed up against his side did not seem malicious. He raised his sword, prepared to cut it down all the same.

Golden eyes watched him warily, glowing hot as the sun and twice as painful to look at. He averted his gaze and tucked his chin into his scarf.

"I am born of darkness," their owner whispered, "You don't need to be afraid in my realm..."

"You're too bright for that."

They laughed. The sound warmed him all the way through, like a gentle fire licking at his bones to melt the ice embedded in his marrow.

"You can't tell someone's true nature by how they look. After all, you're a stone-faced bastard..." They squeezed his hand. "...harboring the light."

"I'm," he started to say.

With each stuttered beat of his heart, a smattering of stars pulsed into being, above and below. Soon the whole world glittered and the dark shrank back. He could plainly see the shape of their smile by the star light.

He woke to the knowledge that they would never smile like that because of him and that was exactly how it should be. The thought brought him a strange sort of comfort because it meant he was truly awake, not wrapped up in further dreams.

Rising, D settled his hat on his head and his sword at his back. The room was dark except for the faint glow of a neutron lantern coming from Ann's corner. He rounded the stalls to find a small lump sleeping under the blankets with Adrian lying nearby, curled around their sword with their head pillowed on their arm.

At first, he thought Adrian was asleep. Then he noticed the faint glow coming from the tablet propped against the floor. They turned their head slightly, then pushed themself up onto an elbow. The narrow, guarded look on their face was completely opposite of the one he saw in his dream.

"It's full dark out," Adrian whispered. "We're not going anywhere with a child in tow, are we?"

"Not yet."

Frowning, they clicked their tablet off, then set it aside and got up. "You don't mean to repeat earlier's performance _now_ , do you?"

"We shouldn't need her eyes for the rest of the crossing."

Adrian exhaled, clearly relieved. "Then... what are we doing?"

"I'm going to the top of the spire."

"Is that your way of saying I should just sit here quietly."

"Do what you want." D turned away. "But make sure nothing will put the girl's light out."

"Do you mean literally or figuratively?"

"...Both."

They both heard the rattle of the doors and windows, the faint raspy whispers that promised such delights if only they would come along. They could not see the skitter of shadows as clearly as a human might because their eyes were too keen, but D picked up faint movement in the darkest corners.

"D... My tablet says little about the area. It won't do me much good to ask what's going on, will it?"

"Ann didn't tell you?"

"Her answers were vague and confusing."

Something big rattled across the wood outside. Both dhampirs turned towards the noise, tense and still. The sound dwindled with a long, drawn out scraping noise followed by a splash. Whatever was out there took with it some of the chill in the air. Even the whispers faded and the room seemed to brighten up somehow.

D nosed into his scarf, eyes downcast. "...There's something under Midwich."

"Something...?"

"When we enter the forest, it will be eternal night."

"Wait. Eternal night." Adrian crossed the room to stand near D, their head tilted and eyes narrowed as they peered up at him. "Do you know why?"

"No."

"...I see. And so, all this..." They swept their hand out to indicate the darkness. "Is because of whatever's causing that? Monsters at all hours, the need for lighthouses, and so forth?"

"You catch on quick."

"When I'm given enough context, certainly."

"Hn."

Adrian spun on their heel and put their hands on their hips. "I can hide her but I doubt hiding her in more darkness is a smart choice."

"No."

"Then... Dare I ask if you have any ideas?"

D pushed his tongue against the back of one fang. It took some effort to finally murmur, "The locals kept dogs."

"Is that so?"

"Hn. The Nobles, too." D glanced sidelong. "Werewolves."

"...Ah, I see, that explains the infestation, then. And these canines were effective against whatever haunts the area?"

"Can't get lost if you're following a dog's instincts instead of your eyes."

"Fair enough. Still, aside from potentially frightening Ann, I doubt Cezar could help much in this situation. She's not going anywhere."

"No, but he should keep the snakes at bay."

"...Snakes? D, I really wish you'd tell your stories in order. This is all very confusing."

"The Medusas are afraid of dogs."

"Oh, _those_ kinds of snakes." Adrian folded their arms, frowning. "I understand everything now."

Getting the feeling that they did not, in fact, understand anything, D sighed through his nose. "The locals believe that hounds can drag the souls of demons back to hell where they belong... and the Medusas are not above this superstition."

"Are you _sure_ a small undead dog will be of any help?"

"Yes."

"Alright... but you're taking the fall if she's afraid of him."

D said nothing, instead moving towards the stairwell. He waited there, in the gloom, only because he knew Adrian would kick up a fuss if he went ahead without them.

He saw Adrian pull the plush dog from their saddlebag. They woke Ann up and spoke to her quietly. Their shoulders were a tense line, their voice a quiet, hesitant burr.

Ann nodded and held her arms out. As soon as she had it held securely against her lap, Adrian released the spell. Cezar wiggled, immediately twisting around to snuffle and lick at the girl's face.

D thought he heard Ann say, "I knew there was a dog," between laughter.

Nudging the lantern closer, Adrian patted the dog's head. Then they collected their sword and coat. As they crossed the room to join D, they swept their coat around their shoulders with more of a flourish than needed. The sword floated at their side until they finished buttoning up, then they secured it to their belt.

"Guess it wasn't because of the dog that she would need to be brave," D murmured.

"...I guess not." Adrian looked back over their shoulder. Their fingers tightened around the hilt of their sword, then they exhaled, relaxing. "She'll be fine, surely."

D pulled the door to the stairwell open. "She will."

"Are you trying to reassure me?" Adrian gasped, mock dramatically. "What has the world come to!"

"I'm not."

Smirking, they brushed past him, entering the pitch black stairwell. "Your secret's safe with me."

"There isn't one. I wouldn't leave a client to die."

"Ah, yes, dead clients is how you don't get paid, of course. Nothing to do with any feelings of concern or justice."

Refusing to answer, D started up the stairs. He kept one hand out to the wall because it was so dark in the stairwell that he could only make out the faintest outlines of the doors.

Neither dhampir made much noise climbing. There was the occasional creak of leather or scrape of a heel, whispery soft, and little else. The silence had a weighty chill to it past the second floor. Something awaited them at the top.

D stilled one flight down from the roof. He wanted desperately to lash out with his aura, to box whatever was up there into submission. Yet, instinct cautioned him to hang back.

"Are you going to explain what we're doing," Adrian whispered, from just behind D. "Or have I used up your limited patience for being helpful?"

"Turning the light on."

" _Yes,_ I got that much... What does it entail, though? Surely not the flick of a switch."

"Can you feel it?"

"Yes. It's worse than choking on your aura, actually."

"Might be a fight ahead of us."

"A lucky thing I came with, then, since your track record thus far is to overdo it and take a dirt nap for several days after..."

Unable to deny that his strength had waned since the loss of the countenanced carbuncle, D clenched his left hand into a fist. There came no agonized cry of protest. He didn't know why that made his thoughts lurch to a halt. It shouldn't have been a surprise.

Oblivious to D's internal struggle, Adrian hummed. "What do you suppose can make such a fearsome aura?"

"...Keep it distracted," D eventually managed to say. "I'll get the lights."

"Dear me, I'm being entrusted with a _task_. I may faint."

"Go back downstairs, then."

Adrian breezed past D with a quiet scoff. "I'll do no such thing." Upon reaching the top of the stairs, they added, "Try not to die."

"Can't die."

The thin outline of light widened bit by bit as Adrian eased the door open. The sudden spill of starlight across their face revealed a toothy grin.

For that split second before D could wrest his attention away to the task at hand, he was struck by how eerily alike to his dream the moment seemed. It had only been the foolish imaginings of an exhausted mind, spurred there by outside forces trying to lead him astray.

Then Adrian's expression faded into a terse glower on seeing what awaited them on the top of the tower. Rising high above were three faces paler than the waxing gibbous moon hanging in the sky behind them. Endless dark hair draped over everything--the floors, the railings, the glass walls. It probably hung halfway down the tower's outer walls. Beneath the hair, scaled coils wrapped tight around the lantern room. No one would be getting past it without a fight.

Until Adrian drew their sword, the Medusa did little but sway. Then she hissed, all three mouths open wide to display fangs as large as D's hand.

Adrian soared over the hair without touching it. They slammed into the left-most head. Blood and screams filled the air.

D jumped through the doorway. He landed in a crouch atop the coils. The Medusa thrashed her body not to intentionally dislodge him but in response to the sudden loss of one of her heads. He wrapped one fist in her hair and braced himself.

The decapitated head crashed to the floor with Adrian still perched atop it. They yanked their blade loose and launched off just in time to avoid back to back strikes from the other two heads.

Adrian became a blur of red streaks ending in bright silvery sparks. The enraged Medusa seemed to forget anything but fending the attack off. She never made use of her hair or uncoiled from the lantern room.

D took advantage of her distraction to smash his elbow through the glass. He made a large enough hole that he could fit through, then slipped inside.

It was somehow darker in there, though the moon and stars could clearly be seen through the glass on all sides. A thick gloom filled the space like a heavy fog. D crept a few steps forward with his hand held out. He half expected to be lost in a pocket dimension with time and space warped to keep him trapped forever. His fingers bumped up against the beacon housing just where it should be, dispelling that concern.

However, he'd made an error in his entrance. Through the jagged hole in the glass, flickering blue firelight bobbed in. They ringed the lantern room, penning D against the beacon. Bouncing up and down in a slow pattern, they began to circle, never coming any closer.

D could not see beyond their glow to know how Adrian fared. He didn't dare strain his eyes to try, lest he get caught up in the hypnotic dance.

Dragging his scarf from around his neck, D quickly tied it over his eyes. He could still make out the interplay of light through the stitching but the impulses it drove into his brain were weak.

His aura pooled outwards, slowing the will-o-wisps. Though their dance halted, they closed in on him. Enveloped in light, he went still. Cold licked at his fingers, burning all the way to the bone.

_Let us help,_ they whispered. _We are guiding lights like none other._

For a single moment, D hesitated.

He could not remember how else to light the beacon. Surely he needed to bottle the will-o-wisps, surely their strong and lovely glow would be seen all the way across the swamp, surely...

Something crashed against the glass to the right. Metal crunched, glass jingled as it broke apart on the floor, and someone groaned.

D jerked towards the sounds, his fingers flexing as he pulled away from the wisp light gnawing at him. "Adrian."

The scarf slipped down from D's face. He squinted through the blue lights, too focused to notice their beauty.

Framed by spiderwebbed cracks, there was a smear of blood that could have been the Medusa's if not for the matted blond hair pressed against the glass.

D's head emptied out, everything fading to the numb static that came right before battle. He was simultaneously hyper aware of every detail and far removed from it, as if he watched from a distant vantage point from the back of his skull.

His arm moved without his say so. He drew his sword and swung out, slicing through the wisps. They sputtered and scattered but reformed just out of reach.

Sucking at his lip, D scraped his fangs against his skin. The coppery taste of his own blood could not give him the true strength that came of drinking from someone else, but it woke the hunger that never went away.

Red light flared out from his eyes. His fangs extended not just from the top but from the bottom too, filling his mouth too full of razor sharp canines. All around him, his aura thickened and filled the room with a black so complete that it made it seem as though he and the wisps floated in a void.

He dragged his forefinger and middle finger from the base of his blade to the tip. Blood and his aura coalesced along the edge, glowing red, then white hot. The light burned like the sun, searing his fingertips and his retinas.

The will-o-wisps shrank back and began to fade from sight, though their presence did not diminish.

D lashed out in a wide arc. The swing of his blade came fast enough to make it sing. Shockwaves radiated out and battered the glass and metal frame of the lantern room.

Just that one strike was all it took to utterly obliterate the will-o-wisps. They let out mournful wails as they disintegrated.

With sunspots dancing in his vision, D spun towards the beacon. He raised his sword vertically, the point aimed at the heavens. The light blazed straight up, through the roof, and lit the skyline in a blinding flash that stilled the hissing and thrashing outside.

The light dwindled back down to a compact ball at the tip of his sword. He brought it down and pushed it against the beacon casing. The ball jumped inside and the crystal began to pulse and spin, faster and faster, until it was a steady glow that cut through D's aura.

D backed out of the fractured lantern room and climbed over the limp body of the Medusa. Most of her upper half hung off the edge of the tower. The still bleeding stump of one of her necks looped around Adrian, who crouched against a broken chunk of the glass wall, clutching at their shoulder. One of her heads lay nearby, her eyes glassy with death.

Beneath the acidic burn of the Medusa's venomous blood, D smelled the sickly sweet stench of rotting flesh. He slammed his sword into its scabbard as he stalked over to Adrian.

"D..."

Knocking their hand aside, D glared down at the large puncture marks marring Adrian's neck and shoulder. The blood that oozed out steamed in the cool night air, stinking with the venom that left burning tracks in its wake. The skin around them was swollen. Already, the veins were beginning to blacken.

A film of sweat coated Adrian's skin and they looked paler than usual. Death was right around the corner. Even Nobles were vulnerable to the venom of a Medusa, though it might not kill them outright.

Yet, despite their predicament, Adrian peered up at him with concern. "...What happened."

D swallowed and worked his jaw side to side, unable to speak. His fangs were still too large to be of any use. He couldn't even get his lips over them.

Frustrated, he paced away to the edge of the platform. With the light active again, he could see all the way out to the next tower. The road glittered as if made of stars. They would have an easy crossing, if Adrian survived.

The thought of Adrian marveling at the view tamped down on the smoldering anger lingering. It was still there but not quite so all-consuming. D breathed in deep, held it, and then exhaled. His left fist clenched unconsciously as he did it.

The tangle of his fangs shrank the slightest amount. He licked at his lips, careful not to nick his tongue again. The primary canines were still overly large but he could work around it.

D went back to Adrian and knelt. "Have to get it out," he said, with some difficulty.

"Mm." Adrian tipped their head to the side, wincing.

The tantalizing sight of a neck bared sent hot, hungry shockwaves down his body. It was the smell that kept him from acting on the wild instinct to sink his teeth in. The smell and Adrian's uneven, ragged breathing, borne out of pain, not fear or interest.

Gripping Adrian by the upper arms, D bent to put his mouth over the hole in Adrian's shoulder. After sucking up a mouthful a blood, he froze, fingers spasming, claws lengthening, and fangs _aching_. The venom in Adrian's blood burned his tongue, his gums, the roof of his mouth, and his sinuses, yet his body cried out for it.

Adrian gripped him by the chin. Their grip was shaky but their voice was not. " _Spit it out._ "

D wrenched his head away, turning to spit the blood out in a long stream over the side of the tower. He ducked in a facsimile of a nod, then hurried to do it again and again until his mouth was stripped raw and the wounds stopped oozing anything but blood.

By then, Adrian's natural regeneration picked up and the ragged holes began to close. They listed to one side, eyes mostly shut.

D grabbed their sword, still wedged in the Medusa's side, and stuck it through his belt. Then he gathered Adrian up in his arms and rushed down the stairs. They felt so fragile and small, curled limply in his arms with their head against his shoulder.

"Don't die," D hissed at them.

With a weak chuckle, they murmured, "Can't die."


	31. children of the past

The first thing D did on getting to the ground floor was lay Adrian out near the lamp. The light dimmed from the pressure of his aura. The effort of reeling it back in was too great so he let it go.

He pretended not to notice the fearful way Ann watched him from beneath her blankets. She held Cezar tight to her side so he couldn't come bouncing out.

The pilfered first aid kit from the second floor contained a neat row of antivenin for multiple local species. Two of the largest needle-capped bottles were labeled _Medusa_. D grabbed one, flicked the cap off, and jabbed it into the side of Adrian's neck.

Adrian arched, fingers scrabbling against the floor. " _Fuck_!"

Still holding the syringe in place, D pushed them back down and pinned them there until the bottle was empty.

They trembled all over afterwards. D knew from experience that the antivenin burned almost as bad as the venom itself. Without it, Adrian ran the risk of their extremities losing sensation as the skin hardened and the nerves went dead. If D missed more than a couple drops, the effects might linger for the rest of Adrian's existence or it might reach their vital organs.

Panting, Adrian curled in on themself. D stole one of Ann's blankets and threw it over them, sheltering them from the light and the chill.

"Is... is Adrian going to be okay?" Ann asked, her voice muffled against Cezar's side.

"They'll live."

D retreated from the light to crouch near the tower doors. He pulled a well-worn whetstone from one of his belt pouches then set about sharpening his sword.

The slow rasp of stone against metal soothed the frayed, sparking ends of his nerves. He desperately craved blood and the solid, wet thunk of his sword biting into flesh and bone where his fangs could not be allowed to.

When he finished with his sword, he attended to Adrian's. Little by little, his aura receded. His fangs shrank until he was able to close his mouth fully. He felt a little more human by the time Ann poked her head out from beneath her blankets.

"...D?"

"What is it."

"I... have to go to the bathroom."

D froze, fingers splayed against the side of Adrian's sword. The whetstone rattled in his grip, the only warning he had that his hands were shaking. He had some difficulty placing the chill down his spine and the hot knot of emotion as... _anxiety_.

His face felt too lax for such a strong emotion. Outwardly, he was probably as blank as ever. No wonder the girl didn't trust him, if the only expression she ever saw him make was the monstrous mask of the Nobility.

Unfortunately, with Adrian out of commission, it fell to him to look after his client. She couldn't very well get up and go upstairs on her own, not with her wheelchair still packed away. Not only did D not know how to undo Adrian's spells, he still loathed the idea of letting her see the corpses upstairs.

"D? I'm sorry, nevermind."

"...No. It's alright." D rose and crossed the room. He laid Adrian's sword next to them. "Leave Cezar to look after Adrian."

"Okay."

After the girl released the little dog, it ran over to curl up against Adrian's stomach. They laid their hand against his back and some of the tension in their spine eased.

Sleepily, they mumbled, "Thank you."

D crouched near Ann, a safe enough distance that she wouldn't feel cornered. "Are you going to be alright if I carry you?"

Wriggling until she was sitting upright, Ann nodded. "You're not scary anymore. Were you... like that because Adrian got hurt?"

"...Yes."

"That's okay, then."

"Is it."

"Mm-hm." She held her arms out. "You have to protect your friends."

The flagrant use of _friends_ grated on him. Yet, he could not bring himself to say no to her. She was only a child, after all, and he didn't know what he would do if she started crying.

"...I suppose so."

As careful as if he were handling fine glassware, D picked her up, still wrapped in her blanket. He settled her in the crook of his arm with her arms around his neck.

On the way to the stairwell, he said, "I'm going to put my cape over you. There's things upstairs you shouldn't see."

"Okay."

Halfway up the stairs, D threw his cloak over her. He kept it on her until they were inside the privy. Thankfully, she didn't need much help, so he was able to wait politely outside until it was time to take her back downstairs.

D brought her back to her spot near the lamp. He took extra care to tuck her in, feeling oddly out of sorts and concerned. Ann smiled and patted at his hand.

Then her stomach grumbled, loud enough to make her blush. "Um... Sorry, but do we have any food?"

"I'm not much of a cook."

"That's okay, anything will do."

He went to rifle through the saddlebags. Hard tack and bland dried jerky didn't seem like something a kid would eat. Selecting one of the freeze dried meals at random, he moved over to the sink to dump it into the pan. He added water, then put it on the little portable burner to heat it up.

The mash turned out to be some sort of yellow rice with bits of grayish meat and something resembling peas, carrots, and onion. Wary, D took a bite and found it bland. He stared down his nose at it. Adrian would know how to make it more palatable. They probably had something for just such an occasion.

Returning to the saddlebags, D made a second search of Adrian's things. Of all things, he found a small bottle of salt, one of the rarest and most precious of all seasonings owing to its usefulness in warding certain creatures off. He could not remember when or how Adrian had gotten such a thing.

The addition of salt to the mash made it passably edible. D spooned some onto a plate and brought it and a cup of water over to Ann.

"Thank you," she said, gratefully accepting both.

She didn't really look like she was enjoying the food as she ate, but she didn't make a fuss about it, either. D supposed it couldn't be any worse than hospital food.

He reserved a portion for when Adrian woke. Then, knowing that they would have things to say if he didn't eat, he quickly wolfed a small portion down.

That done, he washed up and put everything away.

Ann dragged the lamp closer to herself. After a moment's hesitation, she moved it a little more to the right, then the slightest amount the other way, apparently feeling very particular about where it should sit. "Are we going to stay here for much longer?"

"Until Adrian can ride."

"Okay... I'm gonna nap a little more." She yawned widely, burrowing under her blanket. "Wake me when it's time to go."

"Alright."

With both of his traveling companions asleep, D was left to stand vigil. He went to lean against the wall near the doors, at a spot that gave him a clear view of the little spot of light and the stairwell.

Adrian woke just before dawn. They sat up abruptly with a sharp gasp, startling the little dog into scrambling away with a yip. D spun towards the sound, his hand halfway to his sword before he realized what was happening.

"Oh," Adrian sighed. They shoved a hand through their sweaty, blood-caked hair. Their hand dropped to pluck at the ragged edges of their ripped clothing. "Ew. You just _left_ me in these rags?"

"...You prefer I strip you?"

"You don't strike me as the sort to be untoward to my person."

Rather than dignify that with a response, D jerked his chin towards the stairs. "Shower's upstairs. We leave as soon as the girl is awake."

Grumbling softly, Adrian collected some spare clothes from their saddlebags. They only had the one cape and coat, however, and would have to do without until the next visit to a general store.

D watched them vanish into the stairwell, then tracked the little dog back and forth. It paced between the lamp and the stairwell before finally settling on the blanket next to Ann. She squirmed with a sleepy murmur. Her arm snaked out to curl around the dog.

Even though she was already waking, D made no move to begin packing up.

The girl soon sat up, stretching her arms high above her head as she yawned. The dog spilled into her lap with an excitable yip.

"Morning, puppy! And D." Ann rubbed her hand against the dog's back. "Can I... have something to eat?"

Nodding, D pushed away from the wall. He went to the saddlebags and hesitated over what to feed her. The onerous task of cooking again seemed too great. He pulled a bag of granola out and shook it gently to inspect the contents. It seemed to contain a great deal of dried cherries and nuts. Deciding it would do, he handed it over to Ann, then took her cup to the sink.

"Thank you!"

"Mn."

D frowned down at the water spilling over the lip of the cup. He could faintly make out the sound of running water coming from overhead. His thoughts stuttered to a halt. His gaze strayed towards the loosely covered leftovers still sitting out on the counter.

Adrian could probably feed themself, he decided. That didn't stop him from pouring the cup out into the pan and setting it on the burner. He then refilled the cup and took it back to Ann.

By the time Adrian came back downstairs, weak sunlight filtered through the windows. Ann had nibbled her way through half of the granola. Cezar worried at a particularly hard piece of jerky. D pretended to be too absorbed in disconnecting the horses from their feed bags, rousing them from standby, and preparing to saddle them. He watched the others out of the corner of his eye as he worked.

Adrian paused near the sink to survey the scene, absently tugging at a drab denim coat pilfered from upstairs. It fit loosely on them and was at odds with the silk blouse they wore beneath it.

"Morning, Adrian," Ann chirped. "Are you better?"

"Much. Were you alright without my help, last night?"

"Yeah. D made food. It's probably not any better after sitting out, but we left you some."

"So I see." Adrian nudged the plate with a forefinger. It was then that they noticed the heated mug of water and the packet of instant coffee sitting nearby. "Oh, I've been blessed by fairies, surely, because I don't know anyone here who would be so kind as to fix me _coffee_ in the morning."

"I would, if I had my chair!"

"Forgive me, then, for assuming. _And_ for failing to get your chair out sooner."

"You're forgiven," Ann said, primly. "You should drink it before it gets cold."

Smiling, Adrian tore the packet open and emptied the contents into the cup. "This might be poison."

D snorted.

Huffily, Ann shook her finger at Adrian. "D would never!"

"I leave you in his care for one night and you become his staunch defender. Is this what betrayal feels like, Ann Howe?"

"Don't be so dramatic."

Adrian laughed. "How else should I pass an eternity except through melodrama?"

"Most people get hobbies..."

"Hobbies? According to D, our sort doesn't have them."

"How dreadful."

"You'll just have to educate me."

"I will!"

Taking their coffee and their cold rice pilaf, they wandered over to sit with Ann. Cezar abandoned his jerky to try and climb into their lap. They nudged him away with a soft tut.

The girl happily chatted away, listing off all sorts of hobbies and occupations, ranging from gardening to sword fighting. She did not always stay on topic, sometimes straying to talk about a family member, a friend, or a neighbor, always with sad, fond nostalgia. Adrian listened attentively as they ate. Now and then, they murmured encouragingly to keep her going.

It gave D ample time to get everything packed up and ready to go.

After Adrian finished their food, they picked Ann and her blanket up and vanished upstairs with her. D took the opportunity to clean up the dishes and pack them away.

The little dog trailed after him when he led the horses outside. It pranced about at his heels until he said, "Sit, Cezar."

He left all three animals in the shadow of the tower and ventured out onto the newly revealed road. It should have been one solid, flat surface. Instead, gravel glittered in the morning sun. It crunched like glass. Kneeling, he picked up a few pieces and held it up. It even looked like fogged glass.

With a frown, he dropped all but one piece, which he dragged against the palm of his left hand. Most of the sharp edges were worn down but one jagged corner sliced into his skin. The cut closed so fast that blood never had the chance to well up.

D stood, dusting his hands off. Something had broken the road--possibly the same thing that had put the lights out.

Unfortunately, the horses lacked his supernatural regeneration. They would suffer dearly but there may not be any other choice. Leaving the road, even to walk alongside it, spelled death.

"Oh, no!" Ann cried. "What happened to the road?"

D turned to find Adrian standing at the edge of the platform with Ann on their back. "No idea. It might be too dangerous to ride."

Eyes narrowing the slightest bit, Adrian considered the horses with an up-and-down sweep of their eyes. "Floating that much that far is out of the question."

"Glamor?"

"They maintain the same weight."

"I could carry them."

"I doubt very much that your pocket stitching will hold up to that, and given our experiences in this wonderful land of yours thus far..." Adrian lifted one shoulder. "I think at least one of us had better keep their hands free."

Inclining his head, D scanned the horizon, turning the problem over this way and that. The road had been safe to walk on when it wasn't visible but the closer they went to the swamp, the more dangerous travel would become.

"What about the truck?" Adrian asked.

"Hn."

D headed back inside, going straight for the truck. The treads looked solid enough, with no rust or broken links. He reached in through the driver's side window to pop the hood, then went around to have a look. The engine lacked crucial parts, none of which could be found on any of the nearby shelves.

Drifting over to stand near the front wheel on the passenger side, Adrian tipped their head. "I can't tell if that's a good look or a grumpy one on your face."

Ann said, "Maybe that's his thinking pose."

"Perhaps he's sad he won't get to ride majestically off into the sunset."

"Or he's hungry."

"Oh, did he not eat?"

"I don't... think so..."

D slammed the hood shut. "I had food."

"When?" Adrian asked.

Ann, apparently happy to rat him out, chirped, "He ate a whole spoonful of rice last night."

"I see..." With narrowed eyes, Adrian stepped up to block D from walking off. "Doctor's orders, then, you'd better be planning on plasma at the least before we go anywhere."

"I don't need it yet."

"We have a _human child_ in our care."

D's eyes flicked from Adrian's face to Ann's and back. He wanted to protest, to take umbrage and deny the danger he posed. He knew better.

Burrowing his nose into his scarf, D pitched his voice low as he conceded: "Alright."

Adrian had no right to look so pleased about the victory. The gold in their eyes sparkled with barely contained mirth as they smirked. "Good, you're starting to see that you can't win this war of attrition."

"What's a war of attrition?" Ann asked, as Adrian carried her back outside.

"It's when there's a long war that neither side can win so they wear the other out bit by bit."

"Ohh. Are you and D fighting?"

"The war over whether he'll eat his veggies."

Sighing through his nose, D bent to grab the truck by the bumper. He lifted the front half up off of the ground easily and dragged it along behind him as he left the tower.

Adrian scooted out of the way to watch him as he pulled it down the ramp and left it parked at the edge of the road. "I'm guessing it won't start."

"I'll pull it."

"Hm. Not a bad idea."

"I wanna drive!" Ann raised one skinny arm straight up. "Cezar can be my co-pilot."

"I don't think trucks have co-pilots."

"They do _now_."

"Oh, of course."

As Adrian helped Ann and Cezar into the cab, D went to urge the horses to lay down with their legs folded up beneath them. Then he put them into standby mode. He carried them, one at a time, and stacked them into the bed of the truck like living, breathing barrels. With rope from the saddlebags, he strapped them down securely.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get over how... strange these modern horses are." Adrian came to stand near the tailgate with their hands on their hips. "You're just packing them like sardines and they don't care."

"They're not aware."

"Only proving my point."

D shrugged, pulling another coil of rope from a saddlebag. "We'd have to leave an ordinary horse behind."

"A waste of perfectly good horseflesh."

"You'd eat a real horse?"

"You've never had it?"

"I don't need to eat."

Adrian laughed. "Oh, yes you do. Don't think you're going to get away with not."

They leaned over the side of the truck to dig through D's saddlebags until they found his cup and plasma capsules.

Knowing better than to object, D watched them vanish inside the tower before going to rig up a loose harness to the truck bumper. He gave it a few experimental tugs, then dragged the truck forward a foot or two. It would be slow going but less risky than the alternatives.

Ann beeped the horn and leaned out of the driver's side window. "You can't leave without Adrian!"

"Not going to."

"Okay, good!"

"When we're moving, you need to make sure the truck stays on the road. Can you do that?"

"No problem. My mom was teaching me to drive, before..."

Recognizing the expression as the shuttered look that came right before tears, D cleared his throat. "How did you manage the pedals?"

"Oh, um, I sat in my mom's lap. We were going to hire a traveling smith so I could do everything by hand instead."

"Why not get legs?"

"I'm still growing! Legs and money don't grow on trees, you know."

"Hn. Are you sure you can afford my services, if you can't afford a pair of legs?"

"It's too late to back out now, Vampire Hunter D, you already _promised_."

Hiding a rare smile in his scarf, D murmured, "...I did."


	32. look beyond today

Adrian stood in front of the truck with their hip firmly planted against the grille to keep it from moving. They refused to move until D downed the cup of plasma. He handed the empty cup and his cape over.

"Don't you need this?"

"It'll get in the way."

Though he hadn't intended it as any sort of gesture, Adrian hummed and swept it over their own shoulders. "Don't mind if I do, then."

D stared down at the way the cloth pooled on the ground by their feet. Then he slowly raised his gaze. He wasn't sure how he felt about someone else in his cape. He wasn't sure how he felt about _Adrian_ in it. His thoughts felt very far away from one another, the concept of having a body unreal, and the rest of reality somewhere just out of reach.

A hot little bubble of something rose in his chest, then dragged its way up the back of his neck. It was so uncomfortable that he blinked and turned away to grab the rope harness.

Oblivious to D's internal struggle, Adrian asked, "Do you need help pulling?"

"...No."

"Very well. I'll be on lookout, then."

Adrian gathered up the ends of the cape and tossed them over one shoulder, wearing the thing more like a shawl. Then they kicked off from the ground and floated up to perch atop the truck cab. They leaned back long enough to drop the cup into the bed, then posed artfully, as if they were having a day out in the sun, rather than keeping an eye out.

Deciding that the feelings gnawing at the back of his neck _had_ to be irritation, D yanked the truck forward too fast. He was rewarded with an indignant shout as Adrian scrambled for purchase.

"Do you not know how to pull a wagon!?"

"Sorry," Ann singsonged. "I hit the gas too fast!"

"Well, tell your engine to cool it."

"Cool it, D!"

With a faint smirk, D set a steadier pace, a little faster than a walk. The truck rolled along smoothly. Its treads allowed it to overcome ruts and potholes with ease and any bits of gravel that got caught in the links were quickly reduced to a fine powder.

The mile and a half to the next tower went without incident.

The tall blue-green grass swayed all around them, serene and quiet. They heard the cries of birds, the buzz of insects, and even a few rustles and splashes, but saw no evidence of anything lurking. It was as if recordings were being played but nothing was actually out there.

The tower doors creaked in the wind. The thick wood paneling bore overlapping scratches and a few flecks of blood.

D said, "Wait here," then headed inside.

It was as dark and empty as the first tower. He found no corpses, only more blood and claw marks. It looked like scavengers made off with remains.

He ventured to the top of the tower. Thick, jagged scratches zigged and zagged across the glass walls of the lantern room. Something big had tried and failed to get in. Still, it managed to leave a small hole in the roof, which would have been more than enough for the will-o-wisps to overwhelm the beacon.

Drawing his sword, D quickly called upon his aura. He marked the blade with blood, wrapped it in his aura, and drew upon the morning sunlight. As before, he pushed the ball of light into the lantern's crystal, reactivating it.

Outside, the road lit up and more of it was revealed. D sheathed his sword and headed back downstairs, away from the blinding, burning sting of light.

He made a quick check of the storage and pantry on his way back down the tower. Their saddlebags couldn't hold much more but he helped himself to the first aid kit and a couple of small, frozen poultry, shrink-wrapped in plastic.

When he stepped outside, Adrian called out, "That was a hell of a light show! A little more warning before you attempt to do permanent damage to our retinas?"

"You know why we're here."

"It's a matter of timing, man."

D shrugged as he walked over. "Then don't look directly at it."

"As helpful as ever..."

He was going to stow his finds in the bed of the truck, but instead D held one of the frozen poultry up to Adrian. "Instead of complaining, apply ice."

"Oh, look at you, scavenging for questionable foodstuff." Adrian took the bird and turned it over in their hands. "Sort of looks like a quail. _Are_ there quail around here?"

"Do I look like an e-reader."

"No, you look like a workhorse. Mush."

"That's not what you say to horses..."

Adrian flapped the frozen poultry at him, clicking their tongue. "If you please, I'd like to be somewhere that isn't eerily empty."

"Come nightfall, it won't be."

"Exactly."

With a snort, D walked around to the front of the truck. Ann watched him pass, her head pillowed on her folded arms in the window. Cezar lay sprawled on his back with his head against her leg.

"D?"

"What."

"Are the lights going to stay on, if no one's there to watch?"

"Probably not."

"I guess... I have to figure out how to fix that, when I get back home. If anyone's still alive."

Saying nothing, D grabbed the rope harness and got the truck moving again.

The day dragged on like the truck. They made stops at each of the towers, moving on as soon as the beacon was lit. Sometimes Adrian and Ann got out for a break but mostly they stayed outside with the truck when told.

The quiet tedium grated on D's nerves. He squinted at the looming, dark shapes of trees ahead of them, suspicious at the lack of attacks. The next tower was at the very edge of the swamp proper. After that, they would be under cover of pine and willow draped in lichen, their visibility reduced.

Beneath the stink of sulfur, D smelled smoke. He raised his eyes above the tree line. Black smoke drifted slowly up. It eddied as a huge flock of birds took to the air, screaming. For a moment, the entire sky darkened under their shadow. Then they scattered, dispersing every which way to vanish into the horizon.

In the silence that followed, long, mournful voices rose one after another. Howling. D narrowed his eyes and shifted the rope harness to his left hand. His right settled against the hilt of his sword.

Adrian slid down onto the hood of the truck, crouched. "Seems Midwich is in a bad way." They tilted their head, listening. "Wolves at this hour..."

"Natural werewolves."

"Nothing I've read on the differences fills me with excitement for this prospect. Can we handle so many?"

"I can."

"While keeping Ann safe?"

"Were you planning on leaving her unguarded?"

"No, but she hired _you_."

D glanced over his shoulder, past Adrian, and through the windshield. Only the top of Ann's head was visible. She shrank down in her seat. He heard the creak of the window as she rolled it up.

The truck could probably take a hit or two. The glass would be shatterproof but it wouldn't be impenetrable. They could try hiding it and its precious cargo somewhere but it wasn't airtight. They had no way of guaranteeing will-o-wisps wouldn't shut the lights off again and find her.

"No choice but to keep going," D decided. "She's safer with me than anywhere else."

"It doesn't sound like Midwich is safe anymore. Are you still avoiding the subject of what comes after, if she can't afford to keep you on?"

"What will you hire me for?"

"I promised to show you I could render doctoring services in exchange for blood." Adrian twirled their finger in the air. As they did so, their sword loosened in its scabbard. "If there are survivors here, this seems a likely place to start... and a doctor has need of a body guard in a lawless land like this."

"And the payment?"

"Keeping you fed, of course."

"No enthralling. No biting."

"Of course not. Willing volunteers through needles only."

"And if someone refuses but still needs help?"

"I won't leave anyone to _die_ , if that's what you're asking."

"Fine."

"Then we have an accord..." Adrian launched off of the truck to land on the road before D. They adjusted the oversized cloak still draped over their upper body, then began to walk with their sword floating along beside them. "Let's get your lovely client safely to Midwich."

With Adrian ranging ahead, D resumed pulling the truck. He went faster than before, almost but not quite running. The truck rattled loudly as it picked up speed.

The noise drew two wolves out of the thorny bushes around the base of the tower. They rose up on their hind legs, sniffing, then dropped down. Growling, they loped off on all fours and disappeared into the high grass. Both fell silent. The wind rustling the grass made it harder to tell where they were.

D reached behind to plant his hand against the grille, stopping the truck. Then he stepped out from the rope harness, sword drawn. Adrian dropped back to stand near the right front wheel. They raised their sword horizontally at eye level.

A blur of black and brown shot up from the grass. Adrian ducked under it. The wolf landed heavily on the hood of the truck, paws scrabbling for purchase. D spun with a horizontal slice. The wolf leapt over his sword, kicked midair to gain more height, and came down at D claws first.

Meanwhile, Adrian surged forward to meet the second wolf right as it burst out from the weeds. There was a yelp and a spray of blood. Their silver sword split the monster from shoulder to hip.

Thrusting his sword upwards, D took fistfuls of claws to both shoulders. The teeth never made it to his face. His blade jabbed right through the wolf's upper jaw and out through its skull. The thing was dead on impact.

"Are you incapable of dodging?" Adrian asked, flicking their sword to shake off the gore. "Do you _enjoy_ pain and ruined clothes?"

"...Keep forgetting," D admitted. He shoved the wolf off his sword. The body landed in a heap next to its companion.

" _Forgetting_?"

Rolling one shoulder, then the other, D nodded. The wounds were already closing.

"Oh, I see, just because you can heal that quickly doesn't mean you shouldn't be more careful, you know. You're wasting a lot of time sleeping it off when you inevitably collapse."

"Noted."

"Seriously, or are you just saying that to placate me."

D wiped his blade off on his pants, then sheathed his sword. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, actually, because I'd like to stop being your babysitter."

"I don't need your concern."

Adrian's lips thinned out as they glowered. "Need I remind you that we're stuck together until we stop the castle and your wretched ancestor? Or would a better tactic be to bring up concerns about your performance, as your future employer?"

Taking up the rope harness again, D stared straight ahead. He flexed his fingers around the rope and fought down the desire to lash out with his aura.

With extreme and pained reluctance, he grit out, "Your castle took a lot out of me."

"You keep saying that..."

"Adjusting is..." D glanced sidelong, then away. He couldn't bring himself to admit that it was _difficult_ , so he settled on, "Strange."

"Besides your amulet, what, exactly, did you lose?" Adrian eyed him up and down. "Were you invincible or something?"

"More or less."

"Well. You'd better start dodging. If you had trouble with the castle before, it'll only get worse if it gets a new master." Adrian stalked ahead, tossing their hair over their shoulder. "I won't wait up for dead weight."

Somehow, the way they said it felt forced and affected. D buried his nose in his scarf, oddly relieved.

Then he dragged the truck over to the tower. Adrian stayed outside to guard it while D went inside. He raced up to the top of the tower and lit the beacon as fast as he could. In the interests of saving time, he vaulted over the railing and dropped straight down to land in a crouch at the side of the road.

"Show off."

"You would have flown," D shot back.

Adrian smirked. "Of course."

"Are you ready for this?"

Flipping their sword up high, they snatched it from the air and swept it out to the side with a needlessly dramatic flourish. "I'm shocked by the concern, but we can't stay here."

D wrapped the rope harness around his left hand, keeping his sword in his right. He barely noticed the strain put on one side as he got the truck moving again.

As soon as they entered the tree line, all light and sound dimmed. D squinted upwards, then frowned. He saw no evidence of stars through the branches. The strange twilight hour was so unlike the area. He wondered if that lack had something to do with everything going wrong.

There was little time for idle wondering. Things rustled through the undergrowth at either side of the road. D caught flashes of gleaming eyes as the wolves raced by. He did not slow down, though the road was even more splintered than before, making the truck rattle and bounce.

Adrian jumped up onto the roof of the cab again. They flung D's cloak off into the bed and crouched, claws and fangs beginning to lengthen as their eyes ran red.

The first two wolves to burst from the undergrowth never stood a chance. Adrian streaked through the wolves in a split second. Their upper halves hit the ground long before their legs stopped moving.

"Don't leave the road," D warned, guiding the truck around the remains. "The lighthouse's reach will end soon."

Adrian saluted with their sword. "Got it."

More and more wolves charged out from the treeline. Few made it past Adrian, who defied gravity to rocket from one end of the truck to the other. Those that did met the business end of D's sword in swift, brutal strikes that allowed him to keep moving forward. He would not allow the truck to be slowed.

They left a trail of stinking corpses in their wake. It was no wonder that it drew other creatures from the depths of the swamp. Massive gators lumbered out to drag the remains back into the murky water. Long-billed birds and bare-necked vultures circled down, fluttering and squawking just out of reach before beginning to fight over a corpse.

The worst of all were nine faces rising up ahead in sets of three. D finally slowed as the last wolves retreated into the trees.

"It was you," one of the Medusas whispered, in three voices.

Another hissed, "You killed our sister."

"We'll rip you apart!" the last cried, thrashing her tail hard enough to knock a tree over.

All of their heads swung towards Adrian, who perched atop the truck again. The largest of the Medusas crawled forward, her heads poised to strike. Her sisters hung back and spread their hair wide to form a thick net of black between the trees.

"D! Launch me!" Adrian did not even wait for him to react; they leapt forward.

D ducked, offering up his shoulders. At the same time, he flipped his sword, grasping it by the base of the blade, and held the hilt up. As Adrian bounced off his shoulders and onto his arm, they took his sword. He managed to let go at just the right time to avoid being cut.

Then he hurled them into the oncoming Medusa as hard as he could.

As Adrian sheared through the middle head, D drew three needles from the inside of his coat. He launched one into the left head's mouth, preventing her from biting down. The other two needles pierced the right head's eyes. She recoiled with a shriek.

D raced forward, delivering a sideways chop with his hand. The blow knocked the heads together. He lengthened his claws as he surged upwards, punching through the right head's lower jaw. Then he flung his arm to the side, once again smashing her skulls together, this time hard enough to shatter bone.

Adrian flowed like smoke over the Medusa's back. They launched off her wildly thrashing tail to drive the points of both swords into the chest of one of the other Medusas. Dark hair flew at them, catching them by the neck and arms. 

By then, D had finished with the first Medusa and leaped up, coat fluttering. He launched a rain of needles to slow the other two Medusas.

It gave Adrian enough time to change their shape. The dog-sized bat flying up from their net seemed to bewilder and enrage the Medusas. They screamed, a sound short-lived as Adrian's sword cut through the air and two of their necks.

D landed and ran to snatch his sword from the ground, staying low. He wove between wildly stamping paws. Though he took several swipes at the nearest head, he only nicked her scales, missing the killing blow.

The Medusas turned on him as one. D sidestepped to avoid the snap of one jaw.

Hair smashed into his left shoulder and wrapped around his arm, tight enough to cut off circulation.

A mouth latched onto his leg, the fangs sunk deep. The poison burned through his veins in seconds.

Another grazed his side, ripping through cloth and skin alike but not managing to find purchase.

He jammed his sword through a third's cheek but lost his grip when she wrenched away.

Adrian crashed into the back of the final head, slamming it into the ground. The skull crunched and gore sprayed up. With that, one of the Medusas only had one head--the one biting deeper and deeper into D's leg.

The Medusa with two heads left pounced on Adrian before they could get back into the air. Caught between hair, teeth, and claws, they reverted to their normal shape and barely held the Medusa's fangs back with their sword. Venom and saliva dripped down on them as she struggled ever closer.

It was a fight neither of them could win.

The earth rumbled. The road cracked with the high sound of glass breaking. A huge split in the earth widened, revealing a prismatic, ever-shifting light like an aurora.

From that hole, a grinning man with a mouthful of fangs and a wild, chaotic laugh ascended. He stood triumphantly on the lip of the chasm, his sword in hand. His cloak and hair flapped in the upsurge of power from the depths.

And his presence filled D's mind. It rankled like nothing else--a vibrant, loud crackle of energy and emotion that demanded his sole attention. His hands flexed for want of his sword. His fangs lengthened as he bared them.

Dark eyes, glittering with mirth, met his.

The Medusas no longer mattered. All that mattered was the fight to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be taking a hiatus from uploads and fic writing until October. Thank you for your patience and understanding.


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